Epoch
by petthekat
Summary: That coward was always running, but not this time. He would have to face the consequences. [kitty/pietro, timetravel] [now with a sequel - Permanence]
1. Lapse

Author's Note:

And so I return! This story has been in my head for a long time, and seeing the latest X-Men has given me a direct resurgence of love for Pietro Maximoff. I won't lie to you - this fic will pull from many different X-Men sources. It will include references to the comics, cartoons, and movies, though none of it should be in a context that is confusing if you lack a familiarity. Most of the references made will be anecdotes that will be either explained or, in the grand scope of things, inconsequential. It should not keep you from enjoying the story. In addition, one of the main characters of this story will be Angel Salvadore, who, to my knowledge, does not appear in the Evolution series, but instead comes from the comics. She is also featured in X-Men: First Class.

However, I would like to issue a **warning. **This story takes place in a particularly brutal, unsavory environment. It involves war, genocide, character death, and an overall abandonment of morals, hence the rating. I will be pushing these characters into a setting that I hope is both realistic and jarring, and if you do not feel like this is something you can read, I suggest you turn back now.

I do not own X-Men, Evolution or Otherwise, and so on and so forth. Also, Pietro's line in the cafeteria is a variation of one of my favorite Game of Thrones quotes. I do not claim originality with it, though all others are mine own.

* * *

She couldn't explain why she does it. Why, when she sees the look of blind panic flash across his face, she feels a white hot fury that makes her lunge for his lithe waist and hold tight. That coward was always running, but not this time. He would have to face the consequences. Bobby was right behind her, grabbing her tight around her middle to try and pull her away, but the metal clicking of the walls sliding shut around them was making the entire cafeteria swing with a dizzying blackness and she refused to let go.

"No you don't, Maximoff!" she gasps out, digging in her heels as he twisted to shove her away. The walls were closing in now, and she feels him go rigid. Suddenly, she is pulled clear off her feet, and everything around them suddenly disappears in a flash of silver and black.

* * *

"Hey Kitty! Catch!"

A sudden splash in her Corn Flakes made Kitty Pryde jump in her seat, and her lips dropped open in a disbelieving gasp. "Evan! Jeez, this is supposed to be my food," she groaned, pushing away the bowl with a roll of her eyes. It was like this every morning. She wasn't sure why she was surprised.

The tall, dark-skinned boy hopped over the dinner table bench and poked at the sopping wet Nerf ball floating in her cereal. "Oops," he said, grinning just a little and trying very hard not to. "You were supposed to catch it. Your reflexes are terrible," he said, and Kurt snickered across the table before adopting an innocent look at Kitty's glare. Down the long breakfast table, the fifty some-odd other teenagers and preteens were busy eating, finishing last-minute homework, or harassing their neighbors. Bobby Drake and Rogue were sitting at the end, involved in a light conversation that had Rogue's usually dour face curled in a little smile. Kitty shifted in her seat and turned her attention back to the table, where she helped herself to some toast to replace her victimized breakfast.

"How do you think you guys will do on your finals?" she asked, crunching into a corner. Kurt stuck out his tongue in distaste.

Evan shrugged. "I don't really care at this point," he said, shoulders dropping a little. "I'm just ready for school to be over."

"Da," Kurt agreed sadly. "Ever since.. Well, you know."

Kitty did know. Going to school at Bayville High had become much more difficult since they'd been revealed as _mutants _(and even in her head it sounded like a mocking hiss, her classmates' cutting words echoing in her head all the while.) It had only been a couple of weeks, though. _It will get better,_ Kitty thought, and she took in a deep breath that exhaled as a smile.

"Don't worry, people will start getting used to the whole thing and it'll all be smoothed over by next year."

"Yeah, well, tell that to those of us who are graduating," Scott Summers jingled his keys in his pocket. His expression was put-out, but that wasn't uncommon these days. "Come on, anyone riding with me better hurry it up. I have to stop by the gas station." Evan jumped up at the same time Kurt disappeared into a cloud of blue smoke. Evan cursed.

"He always beats me to the front seat!"

And then he was gone, too, leaving Kitty to her thoughts.

* * *

The final week of school before summer break was always busy, full of excited chatter and desperation, and Kitty loved it. Or, at least, she had loved it in the past. Kitty's year as a junior was meant to be the precursor to an exciting and academically challenging senior year, but it had fallen into an intense gloom. This year closed with people who either cowered at their own shadows or stared and pointed openly at Xavier's students, daring them to say something or act on the obvious prejudice.

The mutants at Bayville High had already been warned, Kitty remembered, and not just by Xavier. The school board had pulled all of them aside one day, telling them in no uncertain terms that any indication of their powers at the school would result in swift and severe punishment.

"To _protect _the students," one female board member had said with a stiff smile, and she did not need to say that she meant the _normal _ones, not the already condemned students who stood by her side. Storm had gone up there, Kitty knew, trying to plead on the kids' behalf. Kitty didn't know how the conversation had gone, but judging from the hateful glares they received on a daily basis, she had to gauge that it had been, on the whole, rather useless.

"Hey Jen," she forced herself to say, as she had every day for the last week. She plopped down into her Advanced Chemistry seat, next to the brunette who had been her lab partner since sophomore year. The girl next to her shifted uncomfortably, heaving a pained sigh, and gave Kitty a slight nod in greeting. Kitty pursed her lips and squinted a little. She was stressed out from finals, and despite the positivism she'd been forcing on others, it was getting harder and harder to hold onto herself.

"How's your brother? Someone told me he pulled a hamstring in the gym playing basketball the other day," Kitty said, and wow, it sounded lame even to her own ears, but she was desperate for conversation. Jennifer wasn't a close friend, but she always been a good classroom partner, and she was such a nice girl. They had always had fun in class. Why, Kitty thought with just a tinge of desperation, was all of this so hard for people?

_Calm down_, she told herself. _Remember how you felt when you found out about mutants. This is frightening to people. Give them time. _

But when the class ended and Jennifer snatched her books up without a single word, Kitty felt tears play at the corners of her eyes. Jen wasn't the only one who had abandoned her after the mutant reveal. None of her classmates looked in her direction, and some even point-blank refused to acknowledge her when she spoke. Her teacher was nearly as stone-faced at the rest. Gathering her books, Kitty drew in another deep breath.

_Better, _she thought, with much less enthusiasm than before.

_It gets better._

* * *

Pietro Maximoff abhorred school.

Not because he didn't like learning (he did) and not because he struggled to read at a third-grade level (like Lance) but because it was, as a whole, _boring as fuck _and it made his fucking teeth hurt to think that Magneto made him continue to attend. Magneto wanted people to know that the Brotherhood was around, that not all mutants were cowering and waving white flags like Xavier's brats. Those were, at least, the reasons he'd given Pietro. However, he'd been very noncommittal when he spoke and Pietro had suspected he was simply trying to get him to go away.

And so, here he stood, in the cafeteria of Bayville High, listening to Toad work his disgusting tongue over a sandwich and watching Lance pick at his fingernails with the keys to his Jeep.

_Christ_, he thought with a deep, mental scowl. _These people are supposed to be my _companions_. _

His sister was here somewhere, he knew, but she didn't like the cafeteria because of the crowds. He couldn't blame her, but he knew if he went outside and tried to sit still under a tree like she did, he'd run the hell off, leaving nothing but a trail of insane cackling and a burning pile of gasoline and timber that used to be a school building.

Suddenly, Lance was stumbling over himself and falling onto a table bench, where he instantly assumed an unconvincingly casual pose. Pietro cut his eyes in the direction of Lance's cross-eyed stare.

Kitty Pryde walked by, not sparing either of them a glance.

When she settled at a table across the cafeteria, sliding into place between Bobby Drake and that red-haired bitch, Jean, Lance scowled and fell into a slumped, primate-like position that looked much more natural on him.

"She's just playing hard to get," he said with a bit of a growl at Pietro, who sauntered over to the opposite bench and sat down, hands folded on the table.

"Oh, yes," he said quietly a smirk, silver eyes glinting, "because Kitty Pryde is a renowned seductress."

He twirled a bottle of salt in his fingers, making the little plastic bottle blur. Lance grunted. "Hey, she has her moments, believe me. She's gotten me blue before." Pietro made an unimpressed grimace. "Lance, I've lived with you long enough to know," he said smoothly, and his eyebrows lifted, "that it doesn't take much more than a girl trying to empty a ketchup bottle to get _you _all hot and bothered."

Lance colored red and went back to his meal.

Pietro turned, bored with his friends. He could see the X-Dorks, over there, huddled together and shying away from every heated glare sent their way. Pietro's table wasn't spared the hateful looks, but they'd been getting them for years, to be honest. Animosity was nothing new.

And even if it had been, Pietro didn't think he'd take it nearly so personally as those kids seemed to. He'd heard them in the hall, in the classroom, outside on the fields and inside teacher's offices. They wanted to be accepted. They wanted to cooperate, to work together, to blend in and still be allowed to be themselves.

What a crock of shit.

They lived in a deluded world, and it was about to be torn apart. The only consolation to Pietro was that he would be there to watch it.

* * *

".. pass me that straw? Kitty? Hey, Pryde, wake up!"

A hand waving in front of her face suddenly caught her attention, and Kitty blinked stupidly before wrinkling her nose and pushing the hand away. "Stop!"

"Well, stop spacing out! And stop hoarding the straws, too." Jubilee stretched over the table and plucked the drink straw from in front of Kitty's tray. Jean had moved from her side to go do some studying in the library, and Kitty was relieved when a dark-skinned girl with a big smile and a wave of jet black hair claimed the spot.

"Hey girl," Angel Salvadore said with a grin. Kitty grinned back, feeling a bit lighter with Angel around. She had an infectious attitude, light and airy and always ready with a quick joke or quip. Kitty envied her confidence. Even now, with all of the madness going on in school, Angel walked with her head held high. A group of students ambled by, giving the table of mutants wary and disgruntled looks. Angel responded by winking at them, which made one of the boys stumble and hurry to his table. Kitty giggled.

"How'd everything go for that test I helped you study for?" Kitty asked, taking a sip from her drink. Angel rolled her eyes. "I forgot most of that shit in like two seconds, so I cheated," she said casually. Kitty nearly choked on her straw.

"Angel!"

"_What_?" Angel exclaimed with an unrepentant grin. "It's not your fault. You're a great tutor! I'm just a terrible student," she said as she stole one of Evan's french fries. He made a face at her. Kitty smiled a little to herself, and for a moment, she allowed herself to settle into the calm familiarity of being around her friends. _Family, more like, _Kitty thought with a quirk of her lips. It really was going to be alright, she decided then, as long as she had these people.

She stood away from the table.

"Hey, I'm going to go grab an extra water for my gym class later," she said, her contentment keeping her cocooned from the belligerent stares that followed her across the cafeteria. She dumped her tray and turned, but no sooner had she sought out the vending machine with her eyes than it was blocked by a tall, silver-haired speed demon with an all too dangerous smirk on his lips.

"Hey Pryde," he drawled, hands sliding into the pockets of his pants. _He always stands like that_, Kitty thought. He was never self-conscious, arms folded over his chest or gaze lowered. Everything about his presence screamed _danger - attention - fight - victor, _even though he was by far the quietest one in his group. When he _did _condescend to speak directly with one of them, though, it was usually followed quickly by trouble.

Today was no exception.

"What do you want, Maximoff?" Kitty asked, shifting her gaze away from his face and trying to edge around him. He moved in front of her, and she could tell by his expression - _Oh, he thought she was so stupid_, she fumed inside - that he was enjoying making her uncomfortable.

"I was just wondering if you knew what this gaudy piece of shit is," he said casually, swinging around a little piece of metal in his hands. Kitty froze. His smirk widened at her obvious alarm, and Kitty took in a quick little breath before she scanned the room. Kurt wasn't in there anymore, he'd gone out with Jean to go to the library. He was supposed to - Oh, God - But where WAS he?

"How did you get that? Give it back, you jerk!" She snatched at the device, but of course, Maximoff was too fast. He yanked it out of the way and then shoved it back into his pocket.

"Don't you think anyone should tell him that people _already know _that he's a mutant? I mean, with as weird as he looks, he could be your mascot. I bet that would endear you morons to _so _many of our beloved classmates." The silver-haired mutant leaned in closer, his voice a taunting hiss. "They _love _animals."

Kitty's vision began to color with a dangerous shade of red, a growl building in her chest. This sorry bastard had - probably out of boredom - taken Kurt's hologram disguise and left him stranded somewhere in the school, blue and furry and tailed. Alone, probably contemplating whether he could teleport all the way back to the mansion without having to stop and be spotted. If he hadn't already.

"Damnit, Maximoff!" She snatched at him again, and he let her catch him by the shirt (because how else could she have managed it?) so that he step closer and give her a snarky grin. He was loving this, Kitty realized, and with a grunt of despair, she looked up to see the whole cafeteria watching them. Pietro gave a thoughtful hum, making Kitty turn her attention back to his sharp face. "Just give it back, already! Jesus, you are such a dick." She reached for his pocket, uncaring of whoever was watching, but this time that slimy Maximoff caught her by the wrist in a steel grip.

"I don't think so. I think I'll hold onto it for a little while." He released her roughly, pushing her back a little. The motion was immediately followed by the scrape of chairs and benches, and Kitty knew that her friends were on the move. She saw his silver eyes flit around to their observers, but unlike her, he seemed entirely unconcerned.

In fact, he seemed to enjoy the audience. He whipped out the hologram disguise and twirled it in his fingers again, walking in a small circle and addressing the anxious students and teachers.

"See this, folks? This is what you call - a _crutch." _He crushed it in his hand, reducing it to bits of broken, popping wires before he dropped it to the ground with a flick of his delicate fingers. He turned back to Kitty, who felt like her body was on fire with pent-up anger.

He smirked again, giving just the smallest of chuckles. He shook his head.

"Hiding behind fake appearances, fancy mansions, and loads of money.. It's a weakness our race can't tolerate anymore," he said, loudly enough for everyone to hear, but Kitty felt him throwing the words at her, and only her. Her jaw tightened. The rest of the cafeteria was silent. Pietro's eyes narrowed dangerously on her.

"That's right, folks... This is our world now. You can either join the new world order.. or _die_ in the old one."

Gasps sounded throughout the room, and even without the power of telepathy, Kitty heard the panicked thoughts that echoed throughout the room.

_They were right._

_These mutants are dangerous!_

_They want to kill us. _

_We have to get them away. _

_We have to kill them first. Die. Die. Die. Die. Mutants. Die. _

And suddenly, she jumped at him, missing wildly because, why does she keep thinking she can grab him? Maximoff disappeared in a flash, and the cafeteria erupted into a sudden burst of chaos from the high speed winds that rolled off his run and overturned tables. Benches were suddenly yanked up and thrown over, making people dash out of the way. Kitty fell through the floor of the cafeteria, phasing out of view for a moment before popping back up with an outraged shriek. "Maximoff!" He was creating complete and utter pandemonium.

Her voice was drowned out by the panicked screams of the other students, and she felt the weight of a stone fall into the pit of her stomach. _Shit, _she thought, and she cursed at herself inside for using her powers, for letting Maximoff use his, for causing the rush of students in the cafeteria and the deafening alarms that -

Wait, what the hell was that noise? It sounded like a tornado siren, and she realized with a start that lights were flashing from the ceiling.

"Kitty!" Angel yelled over the noise and chaos, students jumping to get to the doors, away, away, from the mutants inside. Kitty grabbed her friends arm, her eyes wide. "I'm so sorry!" Kitty shouted in response, and Angel shook her head and tried to yank her towards the door.

But then she saw him. She saw Maximoff, still in the cafeteria, unable to get through the doors because of the rush of people. She saw the windows, and so did he. Perhaps he wasn't willing to burst through them, not when he was enjoying all the microcosm of anarchy he'd created, but suddenly there was a metal whir and clinking, and she saw his face change. She tore her gaze away and looked around wildly.

"What the _hell _is happening?" Angel shouted, her grip on Kitty's arm tightening. To Kitty's horror, there were metal walls coming down from the ceiling, slamming into the foundation of the building.

It was trapping them inside.

"Kitty! Angel!" Bobby Drake rushed to their side, his blue eyes wide. "Come on, get the hell out of here!"

Kitty looked back at Maximoff, the smug little bastard, the one who was now looking up, head twitching in different directions as the steel walls folded down around them. She could see his panic, so different from the calm, amused look from before. Kitty growled. He was going to run. He was going to run, like he always did, and he was going to get away with what he just did while they reaped the consequences.

_Not this time_, she decided, before tearing away from Angel and Bobby. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, Evan running up behind them, but she didn't slow. So much had happened in the past thirty seconds, but she couldn't let it blind her.

Pietro Maximoff was all she saw. He was hunched, ready to clear the crowd of people in front of him and make for one of the windows. He didn't see Kitty coming for him, and he didn't react until she was already on him, tackling him to the ground with a yell.

He was stronger than her, though, and he managed to get standing again. She held tight and clenched her eyes shut.

No, you don't, Maximoff. Chaos all around her, but all she knew was that cry, sounding over and over in her head over the sound of the alarm.

Then there was a jerk in the environment around her, a pull in her stomach, and it was all over.

* * *

_"I didn't mean to - " _

_"I know, but we have to keep going - " _

_"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry, Pietro!" _

_"We have to keep - " He gasped, trying to hold in a sob. "We have to keep going, please, just let me carry you - "_

_"There they are!" The voice was not one of their own. _

_Pietro froze in place, and suddenly his sister was in his arms again, but he felt so heavy, so tired, that he wasn't sure if he could carry her and run. Just a mile away, a home blazed under a starry sky, a beacon to the destruction that the Maximoff twins leave behind. Village to village. Home to home. It never ended. _

_"I'm so sorry, Pietro," she whispered, and Pietro could only back against the wall of the abandoned hut and curl her tight in his defeated arms. He was only thirteen, he thought, the voice in his head just as anguished as his spoken voice would be. He couldn't keep doing this forever. Not when they couldn't eat properly, or sleep a whole night on a real bed. He simply didn't have the strength. _

_Wanda had the strength. She did not have the discipline. _

_The crowd hurried into their field of view, carrying weapons of all sorts and sporting the angry scorn that was unique to the human race. _

_"Freaks!" _

_"Monsters!" _

_"That girl is a demon!" One woman approached, her face twisted in fear and distaste. "She's a product of the devil, and she must be stopped!" _

_Pietro gave an angry shout and pushed his sister behind him, but he wasn't sure if he could protect her anymore. Behind him, the girl who had the power to bring nations to their knees fell and cowered on her own. The night air was so dry. _

_"They're both Satan spawns! Unnatural! Unnatural and malevolent!" _

_Pietro pushed the nearest man away, his hands curling into fists, but the crowd numbered more than sixty by now, and the shouting was becoming deafening. _

_"Lock them away!"_

_"Burn them!" _

_Die. Die. Die. Mutants. Die. _

_Pietro closed his eyes, his arms still out in front of his sister. When he re-opened them, he promised himself, he would be ready. He would accept his fate, his end, his termination._

_So when he opened his eyes and saw a great, looming shadow standing between him and the crowd, he did not flinch. The shadow raised its arms, and the mob was miraculously dispersed. The looming figure turned to face him, and Pietro sank to his knees, eyes closed once more._

_Death had come. And he was ready for him._

* * *

"SHIT!"

Angel's startled curse echoed from somewhere behind her like the last thump of a beating drum, right before Kitty Pryde slammed with breathtaking force into the solid and unyielding earth. She had not even thought to phase, but when she bounced off the ground and flew towards a tree, she finally grabbed a hold of her instincts and phased through a tree that would have surely snapped her in half. She landed again, this time a little slower, and finally slid to a stop.

Ow.

It took several long, shaky breaths before she could lift her face. It was covered with leaves - her face, that is, she realized as she brought up a trembling hand to her cheek. She was outside.

"Eugh," she said, lifting herself with a pained grunt. Dirt caked her entire left side, and the taste of forest flooded her mouth. She spit, wiping at the moist dirt that coated her cheek all the way up to her ear. She moved to stand and fell over again with a groan, pain shooting through her leg. Sucking in another gulp of air, Kitty pressed down on her leg. It wasn't broken, perhaps not even fractured, but it had a long, deep cut on the side and was bleeding freely. "Great," she groaned, and she carefully shifted into a sitting position. Her eyes lifted to her surroundings, and her lips parted in surprise.

She wasn't at the school anymore. In fact, she didn't think they were in New York at all. There was forest around her, as far as she could see, and it wasn't full of the familiar trees that lined the areas around Bayville. The dirt here was thick and dark, and the trees around her were slim with skinny branches and white bark. She could not see any indication of where it stopped, and even though she strained, she could not hear traffic nearby.

"Kitty?" Someone groaned her name, and she turned quickly, seeing Angel stumble from her sitting position. She looked as ragged as Kitty, and she was holding a bloody scratch on her temple. "What the hell happened?"

Kitty managed to stand, favoring her good leg, and she gave a shake of her head. "I - I don't know. One minute I was holding onto Maximoff and then - "

"Hey! Hey, over here, Bobby, look!" The girls jerked their heads up and Kitty felt a flood of relief. Bobby and Evan were jogging over, and judging from their expressions, they were just as alarmed and bewildered as she was.

"You guys alright?" Bobby asked breathlessly, touching Angel's shoulder. She nodded, swallowing tightly. "Yeah, I think so." She looked at Kitty, her dark brows furrowed. "Do you know where we are?"

Kitty shook her head, hands on her hips as she fought to push her body back into a normal rhythm. "No idea. We were in the cafeteria and then..."

Evan's eyes narrowed. "Maximoff," he said, his teeth gritted. "Where's that skinny little bastard at? He must have run off and dumped us here."

"Well, where is _here?" _Angel asked impatiently, folding her arms. "We need to get back to school." Kitty inhaled, holding up both hands, and she realized wrinkled her nose at the dirt and blood that caked them. "It's okay, guys. We'll figure it out. Just - "

And then she spotted it, some sixty feet away. A crumpled ball of silver hair and blue fabric, and her hands dropped. "Oh my god," Angel gasped, following Kitty's line of sight. "Is that Maximoff?"

Kitty moved without thinking, running from their spot and dodging sticks and thorny bushes before dropping next to the unconscious form. The others crowded behind her, and Bobby reached over, rolling him onto his back.

Pietro Maximoff limply fell to the whims of gravity.

His eyes were closed, and he was bruised and cut from his fall. Kitty's chest tightened. _Sorry son of a bitch_, she thought wildly, wondering when Angel's cursing had begun to rub off on her. Panic filled her. _Don't be dead. Don't be dead. Don't be dead. _She checked his pulse.

"He's alive," she exhaled in relief, and Evan snorted.

"Yeah, well, you can't win 'em all," he said flatly, turning away. Bobby grimaced. "Okay, well, we'll get him to a hospital when we figure out how to get home." He pulled out his cell phone, clicking a few buttons as he turned away. His face fell.

"It's not working," he said, perplexed. Evan pulled out his phone, and Kitty searched her pockets, but then remembered hers was in her purse, on the cafeteria bench.

"Mine's not either," Evan said. "No signal, no anything. Weird." He turned in a circle. "We must really be in the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere." Angel sighed, standing up, and gave a little flourish of her hands.

"Guess it's up to me, boys," she chirped, reaching up and pulling off her shirt with no hesitation. Beneath was a clingy tank-top, but it served its purpose - her wings, mere tattoos to the naked eye, were given freedom without the cumbersome overshirt and jacket. Kitty watched, fascinated - as always - as Angel unfurled her wings and made them hum with speed.

"I'll just get above these trees, check this shit out, and then let you guys know where we need to go. Got it?" Kitty nodded, slumping against the tree next to Maximoff's unconscious form. She gave him a kick in the leg for good measure. Jerk.

When Angel returned ten minutes later, the news she related to them was rather unexpected.

"Planes?" Kitty repeated uncertainly, and Angel nodded, looking unusually confused. "Yeah, I went up there and climbed over the top branches to find the sky. I looked all around - This place, it's like, really in the middle of no where. I didn't see any towns or anything, just fields and mountains. And then, all of the sudden - " Angel moved her arms rapidly, making a _whooshing _sound that didn't do justice to the heart stopping cry of several planes suddenly rushing by, uniform as a flock of birds.

"They came from behind me," she said, rubbing her arms. "They were going right over my head, super fast, and then they disappeared behind the clouds." She pointed. "There were a bunch of them." Her eyes squinted. "But they didn't look like normal planes," she added, almost thoughtfully, and Kitty's senses came into full alert.

"What do you mean?"

Angel sighed. "I don't know, they were like - not passenger planes. Like jetliners. They were had propellers on the front," she said, whirling a finger in a small circle.

"Really?" Bobby asked, looking doubtful. Angel scowled. "Yes, really. Don't look at me like I'm stupid." Bobby flushed. "I wasn't, I'm sorry, it's just that - "

"Shh!"

Kitty's hiss brought the conversation to a stop, and the three other teens turned in her direction. A short pause, and then -

"What?" Evan asked, irritated. Kitty shh'ed him again, bringing up her hands to silence him. Evan huffed, but they all stopped and listened. Kitty's brows furrowed, and her lips parted.

"That sound..." Her voice trailed off and she turned her eyes up towards the sky, though they couldn't see it beyond the tall, staggered tree branches. There it was, she wasn't imagining things. A low, heavy hum, gradually growing louder. Angel's mouth twisted with worry.

"Are those more planes?" Bobby asked in a whisper, but then the noise changed, and Kitty's heart seized.

_BOOM! _

The world around them exploded.

Angel screamed, and dirt and branches flew into the sky. Everyone ducked, but the next one was even louder, even closer, and Kitty felt herself shriek as well because the heat of the next one licked against her elbow.

"BOMBS!" Kitty screamed, and suddenly they were all breaking through the forest, but it was relentless, and explosions racked the world around them in one burst after another. Trees toppled with a groan, splintering into fragments and peppering their bodies with cuts and whelps. Up above, more planes whirred by, and she could hear the high-pitched whir that signalled another explosive falling before it crashed into a fiery plume to their left, right, front, back, over and over and over again.

Suddenly, she skidded to a stop, her eyes wide and her mouth yelling wordlessly.

"MAXIMOFF!"

The others stopped too, several feet apart, and still the sky rained down thunderous bursts of blazing heat.

"We have to go back for him!" Kitty yelled, her voice strangled, and Evan gave her a disbelieving look from his spot several feet away.

"Leave him, Kitty!"

"We can't, he's unconscious! He'll die!"

"God damnit, Kitty, he's a fucking asshole! Let him die!"

Bobby's face contorted, his panicked mind fighting conflicting instincts. Kitty grabbed his hand, pleading, because God, they couldn't just leave him, "Bobby, please."

Angel gave a wordless cry, urging them on, tears running down her face, but Kitty held fast. "Bobby!" she shouted again, because she couldn't carry Maximoff by herself. "Please - "

Finally, Bobby nodded, and Kitty ran with him back the way they'd come, leaping over fallen trees and dodging the hellfire that continued all around them. They saw the body - unharmed, for now - and Kitty reached him first, pulling him up into a seated position and struggling to readjust his weight before Bobby was suddenly there, pushing her away.

"I've got him, just go!" He shouted, and suddenly, his eyes became determined and his entire body shifted into a solid form of lethal ice. He picked up Maximoff, slinging him over a shoulder.

"Come ON!" Evan shouted. Kitty looked up to see he was standing alone - Angel was now by their side - and his expression was angry, frightened, and then - God, it happened so slowly, she _saw it happen so slowly - _

The spot where Evan was standing suddenly burst into a chemical flame, and Angel screamed so loudly she could hear it over the bombs, because where Evan had been standing was now nothing but a crater and he was completely and utterly gone.

Bobby's voice was a pained yell, but he forced it out anyway. "GO! RUN!"

And so they did, and Bobby leapt up, forming a slide of ice that moved him ahead of them and zigzagged higher than they could see before he dropped back to the ground, narrowing avoiding a falling tree that had collapsed under the strength of an explosion overhead.

"A cave! I see a cave!"

They bound toward it, and Kitty felt her lungs burning, burning, her injured leg was threatening to collapse beneath her and her heart was a tight ball of agonizing despair. But she kept pushing, and when Angel fell, she heaved her friend up and pulled her along until they finally came to the rock face Bobby had seen. He stopped inside the mouth of the cave, threw in Maximoff's body with no preamble, and then ushered them inside just as a burst of flame unfurled right outside the rocky pathway.

Bobby ran inside and quickly began to form a thick door of ice over the entryway as Kitty watched, body heavy. The first ice door burst from a nearby impact, but Bobby grit his teeth and reformed another, thicker block. It solidified, and suddenly the explosions from outside were trembles in the ground, shakes in the stone walls, but nothing more.

Panting. Breathing. Anguished gasps. The sounds echoed off the dark cave walls for more than a minute before Angel fell against a rough rock, sliding to the ground on her side. Kitty's brown eyes clouded with tears, but she forced herself to stand straight and meet Bobby's gaze. She swallowed thickly, and she could see his forehead wrinkled with the effort to stay calm, stay alert, but the urge to give in and collapse was almost overwhelming.

Kitty's eyes slid across the dark dirt floor to where Maximoff's unconscious form lay still, unaware of the hellish attack on the outside. Unaware that they were lost, and afraid, and that somewhere in this God forsaken place, her friend Evan's body was scattered across the ground as nothing more than a few bone splinters and unrecognizable ash.


	2. Extent

Author's Note:

Hello again! Second chapter. I already have 95% of this story mapped out, so once I get the ball rolling, these chapters should be coming pretty quickly. **A huge thanks to princessariellover876 for being my first reviewer! **And to everyone else, keep an eye out for minor edits and revisions. I edited the first chapter earlier today and I may go back and do so again if I see something that bothers me. I will likely do the same to this chapter. Thanks for reading!

* * *

_Fuck_.

Pietro Maximoff was usually pretty angry about waking up. He was not a morning person.

However, this time he felt his irritation was truly justified. Even before his eyes opened, he was nearly suffocated by a thick cloud of dirt that followed his first inhale. His sides wracked with pain and when he finally managed to lift his head, eyes squinting, his vision swam. For a moment, he wondered if he was hungover.

".. awake, look! Kitty! Bobby!"

He groaned again, rolling onto his back and instantly regretting it. What in the flying fuck could he have done to feel this way? A hangover would have been a blessing. Suddenly, a pair of caramel colored eyes dropped in front of his dim visage. He tried to speak, but he coughed violently and rolled to his side, making strangled gasps instead of words. He heard others moving around him, but his eyes were clenched shut. He was concentrating on breathing.

".. should we do? Help him?"

"With what? We don't have any first aid kits. I honestly don't even know what we would do if we did. He's probably got some sort of internal injuries."

"Kitty, you're the genius. You help him," said someone, and from the light accent he knew it was that slutty fairy, the one who talked like she lived in the Bronx. Pietro finally managed to look up, but it didn't help much. Wherever they'd taken him, it was dark as hell. Kitty Pryde moved into his line of vision and squatted in front of him, her lips pursed with concentration. Pietro squinted one eye at her, because holding open two was just too much work for his brain at the moment. He coughed again, and he was pretty sure blood came up that time.

The girl tilted her head, looking thoughtful, and then stood. Seconds later, a swift kick landed square in his stomach.

"OW! WHAT THE FUCK, PRYDE?!" The words were ripped from him.

"What did you do that for, you stupid bitch?" Pietro snapped, before collapsing on the ground again. It was too much. His body was wrecked. He slowly drew in a deep, rattling breath, ignoring Pryde when she stomped away, her two cronies following closely behind. They were all arguing quietly.

His eyes raked his surroundings. Were they.. in a c_ave?_ He shifted - even that tiny motion caused him agonizing pain - and saw the entrance was a block of ice. Drake must have done that. But why?

"Hey.. Hey!" he tried to get their attention and finally they turned. He couldn't sit up, much to his disappointment, so he spoke to the ceiling. "Where the hell are we? Is this some sort of X-Men torture cave? Because I'll be honest," he was interrupted by shooting pains, making him pause before he swallowed tightly and continued, "that would make you idiots just a little less lame in my book."

His gaze shifted when Kitty Pryde came into his line of sight again, and he noticed for the first time that _all _of them looked a bit rough, though none of them appeared to be as injured as he was. "We have no idea where we are, Maximoff, and it's your fault!" she exclaimed, and Pietro raised a brow at her, his hands falling to his sides.

"My fault? What - "

He paused, remembering. A chill shot down his spine. The walls. They'd been closing in on them, and the cafeteria was a clusterfuck of chaos. He clenched his jaw, remembering how Pryde had clamped down on him to prevent him from running. He had run anyway, though. He had run with no where in mind, only trying to get away, away, away.

He'd never run like that before. He'd never run _so _hard.

Bobby Drake appeared next to Kitty. "Where did you take us, Maximoff? We were holding on to you and you ran. Where did you bring us?"

Pietro made a face. "How the shit should I know? I was just running. I didn't have a place in mind," he answered with a scowl, and the other three exchanged disbelieving looks. He looked over at Pryde and was surprised to see that she looked furious, grief stricken even. "What the hell is your problem, Pryde? Call a god damn bus if you're that anxious to - "

"_EVAN IS DEAD!" _

Silence.

Pietro stared, his eyes shifting as his mind turned over Kitty's words. "Evan.. from school?" he asked slowly, and suddenly the girl was there, in front of him, just inches away from his face. He flinched.

"Yes, Evan from school, you sorry bastard!" she exclaimed, and her words fell away to sobs for just a moment before she seemed to regain control of herself. She moved away, her hateful eyes turning on him again. However, she refused to speak, so Drake stepped forward.

"There were.. _bombers_. Like planes. We think that, wherever we are, it's a war zone."

Pietro rolled his eyes, head turned toward the cave ceiling again. "Right," he said dryly. These people were morons. He moved to roll over again, but his body seized at the simple motion. It felt like all of his limbs weighed a thousand pounds, he thought with disbelief. He'd never felt so fatigued after a run, so completely incapacitated. The others were watching him, he knew. They were fine.

(Well, not Evan.)

To distract them, he pushed aside the pain and said flatly, "So when do you call your little bald buddy to come and get you? Probably better now, " A flinch, sharp pain making his fingers curl, "than later."

Bobby Drake shifted on his feet and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "We tried already," he said quietly. "We can't reach him." Pietro glanced up at this, his brows furrowed.

"I thought he was a freaking telepath."

"He is," the boy said defensively, moving closer to Pietro and leaning against a rock. His face was etched with worry, Pietro saw. Drake's jaw was clenched so tightly, he would probably crack a tooth.

"He's always been able to hear us, no matter how far away we were," Drake admitted, before he finally lifted his gaze to Pietro's own narrowed one. "If he can't hear us now... " His voice trailed off. Pietro growled a little. Great.

Pryde appeared between them and addressed Drake. She must have progressed to the pissed off stage of ignoring him completely, Pietro decided. _How mature_, he thought. He would just ignore her in return, then.

"I'll go out," she said, and suddenly the other two X-Men were rushing to her, shaking their heads. "It's too dangerous," Drake said, grabbing Kitty's arm. She pulled it away easily, her eyes determined. "It'll be safest for me. I can dodge the bombs if they come again. We have to figure out where the hell we are, or we are never getting back home."

She threw a rather ugly glare at Pietro. He responded by gasping and making an exaggerated flourish at his heart. "You're wounding me with your antagonism, Pryde," he snapped. She went back to ignoring him.

"I'll find someone, okay? A town or something has to be nearby. I'll figure out where we are, get some help, and we'll be back home in a few hours," she said, while Pietro lay on the hard dirt, drumming his fingers on his stomach. His eyes followed her movements through the small cave. The other two looked uncertain, but finally Drake nodded.

"Fine, just - be careful, okay? If you're not back before dark, I'm coming to look for you," he said, and Kitty nodded. Pietro watched as she hugged that hood rat, Angel, and then Bobby. When she cast one last glare in his direction, he raised both brows at her, making a little flurry motion with his fingers toward the makeshift door. She practically snarled at him. How endearing.

Breathing in with a great deal of effort, Pietro turned away as he heard her move through the ice door, leaving it intact. He finally managed to push himself up, just a little, but his body was screaming at him and, for just moment, he felt a little bit afraid.

He didn't feel like he could _walk, _much less run.

* * *

The forest was disarmingly quiet.

Kitty was trying to keep her breathing normal, but every time she inhaled, she felt it catch in her throat. All she could see, over and over and over again, was Evan's face. He had a wide-eyed, terrified look, like he knew what was about to happen. Then he was gone.

She paused, leaning against a tree, and fought to gather herself. For Maximoff to just wake up and brush off their concerns, act completely ignorant of what had happened, and then just -

_ Eugh_, she thought. She hadn't meant to kick him. Well, that wasn't necessarily true. She had definitely meant to kick him, she simply hadn't planned to do so until a split second beforehand. She didn't regret it, though. He deserved it. He had started the fight in the cafeteria. If it hadn't been for that whole fiasco, they wouldn't be God only knows where, stuck in a cave with injuries and the crushing weight of a fresh tragedy.

She'd been moving through the forest for over an hour now, keeping the sun at her back so she would know which direction to go back to. She hadn't heard anymore planes, thankfully, but she also hadn't heard any cars or even animals. The forest was littered with fallen trees, torn branches, and deceptively deep craters. One tree she passed her toppled over and left a massive tangle of roots and dirt that looked like the entrance to a fantasy land. She glanced up and stopped in her tracks.

A barn.

Up ahead, a small clearing gave way to a pasture lined by yet more forest. Sitting on the edge of the clearing, just outside of the aged wooden fence that surrounded the property, was a barn made of light wood and red roofing. Wide barn doors stood open, swinging slightly in the wind. Above them, a cutout gave Kitty a peak into the loft up above. Kitty could see hay bales on the side, and a few loose pieces had fallen and littered the grass in front of the doors. She leaned her body to peer around the structure and saw that the pasture beyond it was empty. The fence ran up to the tree line, and beyond that, she could only see more forest.

Kitty hesitated. It was worth checking out, she decided, even though she didn't see any indication that anyone was there.

Stepping out of the dense woods, Kitty wandered to the walls and placed a hand on the door, peering her head in cautiously. It didn't seem to be in use. The inside was sparse and open, with glassless windows on either side. A few tools were propped up against the walls, and there were crates piled in each of the corners. Some of them were open, and when Kitty peeked inside curiously, she found empty milk bottles. The loft was ahead of her, a ladder reaching up to the platform she couldn't see.

She looked back at the barn doors and then turned to the ladder. Kitty grasped a rung and began to climb.

Wind carried through the open layout of the barn. She felt it whistling at her loose ponytail and tugging at her white, newly stained cardigan. The ladder was tall, and by the time Kitty reached the top, her hands were itchy from the rough wood. She pulled herself up up the loft, her first view falling on to the open pasture spread before her through the wide loft window. Then she turned her gaze to the floor. She shrieked, falling over onto her side as she scrambled to get away.

A skeleton.

Kitty's eyes watered for just a moment, her chest heaving as she fought to calm her beating heart. She scolded herself mentally. _Don't be a coward,_ she thought, even as she regained her shaky footing.

There, in the corner of the loft, a skeleton lay propped up against the corner. Time had worn away all the flesh from its bones, but there were shreds of clothing still wrapped around it. Kitty winced, getting a little closer. It must have been a man, she decided, judging from the clothes. She edged forward again, reaching out a foot and nudging the skeleton. She jumped back, like it might attack, and then she glanced around, glad no one was there to see her reaction.

She sighed. This was useless.

She turned away, ready to descend into the barn again, but a flurry of paper caught her eye. It was near the fallen man, caught underneath another empty crate. She glanced at the skeleton again, as if asking for his permission to snoop. Deciding that he wouldn't care, she reached out and touched the paper, tugging it out from underneath the crate.

It was a newspaper.

Her brows furrowed. It wasn't written in English. She tilted her head. Few knew it, but Kitty was actually adept in several languages. This one did not appear to be one of them, though she did recognize it as Slavic. She scanned the paper for familiar words. Her eyes drifted to the top.

_Warszawa_

_Rzeczpospolita Polska_

Kitty tilted her head and scanned the paper again, looking back up at the bold words that she could almost decipher. Her eyes dropped beneath them and she nearly dropped the paper in shock.

_10 Lipiec 1943_

It was in the top right corner, just underneath the curled tip of the page. She recognized it as a date even though she wasn't sure of the month. Her eyes moved up and she bit her lip. Scanning the few photographs that separated the various articles made her hands tremble. She shook her head.

_Impossible_.

She had to be wrong. Kitty curled her fingers tightly around the paper. No, she was mistaken. She hurried into a standing position and folded the paper roughly. She shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans and pulled her cardigan over it. She had to get back to the others, she had to -

**POW.**

Kitty dropped to her hands and knees and phased right through the decking. Years of training in the Danger Room with Logan had trained her body to phase at the first sign of danger. Her eyes snapped around the barn, and for a moment, she thought she imagined the noise. Then, without warning, a flurry of machine gun fire engulfed the barn, and Kitty barely suppressed a shriek before she dropped completely into the ground to hide. She popped back up again, eyes wide.

Thundering footfalls, rapid gunfire, and a grenade exploding right next to the barn doors had Kitty ducking underground again. This time, she resurfaced next to an empty crate just as the sound of angry shouts filtered through the gunfire. She grasped the crate and kept as low as possible, her chest swelling with panic when three men suddenly ran into the barn and ducked beneath a window. Her lips parted in a sharp gasp and she phased into the empty crate to avoid being spotted.

"Oh My God," she whispered, her fingers curling on the dirty denim that covered her thighs. This crate was empty but covered, and when she peeked to the left side she saw a small crack that gave her a full view of the men at the window. Her heart twisted with fear.

They were soldiers.

She could only see them from the back, but there was no mistaking it. One turned, pulling his helmet down low as his trembling hands reloaded a rifle. The other two popped up at the barn window, firing back at assailants unseen. Heavy fire answered them back, and Kitty barely kept from screaming when a stray bullet pierced the crate and narrowly avoided her shoulder.

The noise was deafening. The men were close to six feet away, and with every round they fired, others followed from an increasing proximity. More shouts, the men yelling to each other, people yelling outside. She heard an agonized yell as one of the men in the barn was hit, and her lips parted in a silent cry as he dropped to the ground. The wound sprayed blood on a bale of hay behind him, but the other two soldiers continued to fire, never stopping. Kitty desperately tried to make out what they were saying, but the gunfire was too loud, too frantic, and she couldn't concentrate.

She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Her hiding spot in the crate was feeling more and more vulnerable. She could phase out of it and through the ground to get outside of the barn, but what waited for her out there?

She remained still, only her heavy chest giving an indication of movement.

"_Wstawaj__!_" One of the men shouted when the other slumped down, sweat beading on his forehead. The second soldier jumped up to return fire, but he was dropped by a head-shot. He fell over with a thud, his eyes open and a trail of crimson falling down his forehead.

Kitty gave a little cry and fought to stifle it.

The last man standing glanced back at his fallen comrades and gave a wordless yell, jumping to his feet and firing with wild abandon at their attackers. He shot over and over again, once reaching to his belt and pulling out a grenade. It exploded somewhere in the distance, and Kitty could hear other yells coming from outside, strangled yelps of pain and surprise. A flurry of bullets pierced the barn wall and the last man suddenly lurched to the side, spewing blood from his mouth. He sank to his knees, but he didn't release his gun.

More footfalls from outside, and the man's eyes narrowed deeply. He reached up and yanked off his helmet before forcing himself to stand. He faced the open barn doors, but Kitty could not see the entrance from her angle in the crate.

"_Dla Polski_!" He shouted, before he littered the opening pathway with a barrage of gunfire. More shouts, thuds, scraping boots and gurgling gasps.

Then silence.

Kitty bit her lip to the point of bleeding. She struggled to exhale, even as she watched, through her slim peephole, the last soldier from the window fall to his knees. He was bleeding all over the floor, his dark green uniform stained with crimson. He touched his side and gave another cough. The gun in his hand fell to the floor with a thump.

"_Niech cię__...__naziści_," he choked out, before his knees finally gave out on him and he slumped to the floor of the barn. His head made a wet slap against the growing puddle of blood on the floor.

Slowly, slowly, Kitty stood free of the crate. She walked through the corner, her knees shaking and her hands curling at her sides, desperate for something to hold on to. She yanked back a foot when one her black flats landed in a pool of sticky red fluid. Her stomach turned.

Sniffling, she edged around the first two bodies, her eyes scanning the faces even though she tried not to. One of them looked middle-aged, Caucasion with tufts of dark brown hair. The other was much younger, and Kitty bit her lip again before looking away. He reminded her of many of the boys at their school.

Finally, she reached the last man. She couldn't help but reach down and gingerly touch one of his pulse points. He was dead. She pulled her hand away and closed her eyes tightly for a brief second before she looked around the barn. Her eyes fell on the fallen soldiers in the doorway. A pile of them, darker uniforms than the men in the barn, three or four bodies tangled and lifeless. Kitty felt a growing sense of dread.

_Wrong, wrong, this is impossible, you're wrong. _She reached down, forcing back a little sob, and rolled over the body on the top.

This time, she couldn't hold back a distraught cry that frightened a nearby flock of crows into flight.

* * *

Pietro jolted awake.

When had he even fallen asleep? His body must have been trying to recharge, he realized, trying to sit up and failing once more. God, it had been _hours _since he'd woken up in this cave, and his body felt no closer to recovery. Pietro normally had a very quick recovery time. Everything about his body worked in overdrive. It was one of the reasons that school was so agonizing for him. The people around him moved like sloths, and their acumen was no different.

He looked up to see what had startled him from his sleep and he saw Kitty Pryde, standing in front of the ice door, fingers curled into fists. He pursed his lips and wondered if she was still angry about before.

Then he noticed her face, and he felt his mind shift to curiosity. She looked positively distraught.

The other two teens bolted across the dark cave, but all Pietro could do was turn in their direction with a great deal of effort. Pryde wasn't looking at her friends, though. She was looking at him.

"What is it, Kitty? What did you find?" Drake asked, but the girl merely stepped away from the door and headed towards Pietro. He shifted a little before carefully schooling his expression into one of calm.

She reached into her back pocket and yanked out a folded paper, which she tossed in his lap. Pietro let it fall, before casting his silver eyes up to her, glaring from under his brow.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, picking it up and unfolding it slowly. Above him, he heard the other two crowding around them. Kitty breathed in deeply above him, and she spoke just as his eyes found the lettering of the paper in the dim light of the cave.

"We're in Poland," she said finally to the others, her voice flat. Pietro registered her strained pose in the back of his mind as his eyes moved over the words in front of him, over and over again. He looked up, his lips parted and his brows knitted in suspicion. Surely she wasn't suggesting -

"But Maximoff didn't just run us to another country," she continued harshly. Pietro felt the heat of her glare and it was scalding.

"He ran us through _time_."

Pietro threw aside the newspaper suddenly, scowling heavily. "Have you lost your fucking mind, Pryde? I may be amazing, but I cannot - and I repeat, _cannot _ - time travel," he snarled, and he felt the rage rising from his aching legs all the way to his hunched shoulders.

Even as he said it, he felt his own words falling back, threatening to topple on top of him, but he continued anyway.

"You think just because you found a newspaper, that means we're in, what, _1943_? You're an idiot."

In a flash, Pryde snatched him by the collar and held his face close to hers. He'd never seen her look so wild, so completely vicious as she did in that moment.

"Then what is this?!" she yelled, shoving something into his hands. He pulled away from her with a jerk and ignored the shooting pain in his side. His fingers curled around the material in his hands, so that he could send her one last glare before he finally looked at his palm.

Red, black, white. The unmistakable Nazi symbol, emblazoned on a uniform patch.

Pietro's jaw clicked tensely. He shifted his eyes up to her, this girl that was such an annoying, Puritanical little brat at school, and yet so fierce in the battles they waged against each other. He scowled quietly, moving the material in his fingers before he pinched it in his fingers and dropped it to the ground like a used napkin.

_There's an explanation for this, _Pietro thought with an increasing numbness. _There has to be._

She'd moved away from him and now she was talking with the others. They'd been shocked into dumbfounded silence before, but now Pietro could hear Drake talking loudly, trying to help Kitty figure out another explanation for what she had seen. "Kitty, that's impossible - "

"Fine, if you think you can explain that patch AND the newspaper, then explain this stuff," Kitty said, retrieving a bag from the corner that Pietro hadn't noticed before. He scooted over a little closer, briefly reminding himself of a cat with lame hind legs. God, he must look pathetic. He needed to fuck someone up really soon, or these idiots were going to start thinking this whole weakness thing was something permanent.

Clinks and thuds echoed through the cave as Kitty overturned the bag on the floor. The bag was unmarked, but there was no mistaking that it was a military issued duffel. The contents bounced across the floor. The dark skinned girl pulled out a Bic lighter and flicked it on, leaning closer to the small pool of light.

A torn, barely usable map. A canteen. A box of matches. An empty first-aid pouch. An empty clip. A K-Ration. A pistol.

Pietro's eyes widened, but he remained silent. The others stared at the contents of the bag, which had obviously seen better days and was missing a lot of supplies. Pietro flicked his gaze up to Pryde's face, and he saw that she was staring at him with that damned look of self-righteous determination.

He moved his eyes back down to the gun and finally he leaned forward, picking it up. The others stared at him as he turned it over slowly in his hands. His eyes lifted, and he cast a dark glance around the room before he gave the gun a quick twirl and caught the handle in his palm and pointed the barrel at Angel.

"Bang."

The others glared.

"It's empty," he said loftily, and Angel Salvadore scowled. Pietro looked at the gun again and traced his thumb over the smooth handle. "You got this off of a Nazi soldier," he stated, and he heard the others move uncomfortably. Pryde dropped down in front of him, her eyes narrowed.

"Yes," she said, "How did you know that?"

Pietro leaned back again, wincing as a rock jabbed into his back. "This is a Luger P08. Standard issue pistol for German soldiers during World War II." He tossed the gun in the dirt and returned their stupefied stares with a dead glare of his own. Pryde didn't move from her spot, only turned to look at the fallen weapon.

"How could _you _know that?" Salvadore snapped, and Pietro felt irritation rise in his throat like bile.

"Because _Magneto _keeps one in a glass case wherever he goes," Pietro growled, leaning forward, because god damnit, he was already tired of all this shit. "He took it from the Nazi who shot his fucking mother right in front him. I'll let you guess what kind of twisted shit that Nazi had to go through before Magneto finally gave him the sweet release of death," he snarled, his silver eyes glinting.

Satisfied with their horrified looks, Pietro leaned back again and struggled to keep his eyes open. His body ached. His head was pounding. And now he was having to face the reality that Kitty Pryde had seen all too closely just a little while ago. The truth pressed into his thoughts, even as they began to fade with exhausted sleep.

_I've run us straight into Nazi-occupied Poland... and I have no idea how to get us back. _


	3. Era

Author's Note:

Thank you to Silver and Cheshire Kitty 101 for the reviews! I hope you continue to enjoy the story. On a sidenote, am I the only one who just realized that the X-Men: Evolution episodes are all available in full on youtube? I've been re-watching the Quicksilver centric episodes in order to get myself into his voice. I hope it worked!

* * *

The four of them marked the corners of the cave like points on a map.

They'd been in silence for nearly an hour. Bobby stood with his arms folded, his face set in a deep frown. Angel had progressed to pacing. And Maximoff -

Kitty frowned. He looked _terrible. _She'd never seen him look so disoriented, so malnourished, so beaten. She had seen Maximoff's crazy sister hurl him into a wall at the speed of a racing bullet, but he had never looked like this. As Kitty watched, Maximoff turned on his side, eyes closed in a fitful sleep. He winced at some unseen pain, but he didn't awaken. Everyone else was stunned into silence. Maximoff kept drifting in and out of sleep as if the waking world was pushing him away.

"Alright," Angel said suddenly, stepping forward and unfolding her arms. Kitty looked up. "I'll ask it. Why the hell are we still here?" She looked between Kitty and Bobby, then cast a cool glare at Maximoff's semi-conscious form. "I mean, if we really are here because Maximoff brought us through time, then he just needs to take us back."

Kitty shook her head. "Angel, look at him. He can't even stand."

"Well, make him stand! This is all his fault, Kitty! We have to get back home, alright? We have to let people know what happened."

To Evan. Kitty squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and pushed the memory away.

"Angel's right," Bobby said reluctantly, moving closer to the other two and lowering his voice. "We need Maximoff to tough it out and get us _home. _The longer we stay here, the longer we're in danger. We need - "

" - _to shut the hell up!_"

Kitty jumped, immediately turning to see Pietro forcing himself into a sitting position. Her eyes met his for a moment before they both looked away. The animosity in the air crackled. Maximoff was reaching his breaking point.

"Don't you idiots think that if I could run, I would have gone already?" Maximoff seethed. "I sure as hell wouldn't be in this god damn cave with you imbeciles!"

"Cool it, Maximoff," Bobby growled. Maximoff clenched his jaw and switched his death glare to Angel as she stepped forward. "So, what, did you like - lose your powers or what?" she asked, irritated. Kitty watched as Pietro's expression shifted, and for a split second, he looked concerned. It disappeared. He shook his head.

"Don't you worry about my fucking powers. They're fine. I just - "

"You need to eat," Kitty said suddenly, wondering why she hadn't thought about it before. Maximoff tilted a head in her direction and gave her a most unimpressed grimace.

"How astute of you, Pryde." He space out his next words, as though he was speaking to someone very slow. "_Everyone needs to eat._"

Kitty huffed. "I know that, you jerk. What I mean was - your powers. Your body must burn through energy like crazy. You probably have to eat all the time, right? Proteins, I'm sure." Her scientist mind was ticking, but Maximoff was just moving uncomfortably under her thoughtful stare. It was obvious he did not like his potential weaknesses being dissected.

"My body is fine. I'm just tired - " Pietro started peevishly, but Bobby's voice interrupted him. "I've seen you fight and run a hundred times, Maximoff, and you've never looked this exhausted," he said.

"Yeah, well, you must have never seen me leaving your _mother's _house."

"God damnit, Maximoff!" Bobby clenched his fists, but his outburst only served to spur Maximoff on. He pinned Bobby with a steely glare.

"And if I _could _run," he snarled loudly, his voice rising with every word, "believe me when I say that I _would drop you all in the middle of __Berlin_before I would take you all the way back to New - "

_Clink. _

Kitty put a startled hand over her mouth and her feet took a small stumble back. Blood puddled and then dropped from Maximoff's cheek, where a long, thin scratch lined up perfectly with the ice spike embedded in the rock right next to him. Maximoff's shocked expression would forever be etched into Kitty's mind. She had a sneaking suspicion it was the first time in his entire life he had come so close to being hit by a projectile.

_Something is very, very wrong with Maximoff, _Kitty thought, her heart sinking. She slowly turned.

Three pairs of shocked eyes landed on Bobby, who was standing with his icy fists clenched. He growled deeply in his chest and stomped forward. Maximoff schooled his expression into one of indifference, but his sharp eyes glinted dangerously.

Bobby crouched eye-level with him. Kitty couldn't remember the last time, if any, she had seen him so angry.

"If you _ever _._._talk about leaving these girls behind again.. " he said lowly, leaning close to Maximoff. "I will put the next one through your neck."

Kitty watched as Maximoff pulled back a little from Bobby's angry glare, though he didn't turn his gaze away. Instead, he sneered.

"You don't have it in you, Drake."

The air sparked around Bobby's frozen fists. "Try me."

Kitty watched, her eyes flickering between the two boys. To her amazement, Maximoff looked away first. He remained silent.

* * *

Pietro was accustomed to bad days.

So accustomed, in fact, that he'd started counting the good ones instead. In his short life, he had been orphaned, maimed, hunted, thrown in a van (and over a cliff in a van) and all sorts of other terrible things that normally resulted in a person's violent death.

Today topped them all.

His eyes had been on his dirt covered hands for a little while, but now he chanced a look up. He immediately regretted it. Kitty Pryde was watching him again, the nosy bitch. He scowled and looked back at his lap. His weak, pathetic lap. They were talking, but he couldn't hear them. Like he gave a shit right now.

".. it true, Maximoff?"

Pietro tightened his lips. Drake was talking to him, with more than just a little bit of hostility, but Pietro wasn't sure what they were talking about, so he remained silent. Salvadore moved over to him and kicked him in the ankle.

"_What?" _he snapped.

She scowled down at him. "What Kitty said about you needing food. Is that true?"

"Look, I understand you probably didn't get much schooling in the Taiwanese brothel you were raised in," Pietro sneered, watching as the girl snorted in anger. "but _everyone _needs food."

Pryde was watching him again, with that same thoughtful look, and finally Pietro gave up and threw his arms up in the air. "Yes, alright! I have to eat a lot, and it has to be really high energy stuff, otherwise I'll just fall over. Are you fucking happy?"

"And if we get you food and let you rest, will you be able to run again?" Bobby asked, and Pietro dropped his hands and fell back against his rock. He had his own rock now, he thought blearily. A new low.

"I assume so, yeah." Flat.

Pietro watched as Pryde moved around the cave, picking up the items that went in the bag she'd unveiled earlier. "Okay, so I'll go and find some high protein foods, get enough for everyone, and then come back here."

Pietro stared incredulously as the other two simpletons nodded. He almost didn't speak up in time - Pryde was almost out of the damn cave - but his yell made them halt.

"The _fuck _are you idiots doing?" he exclaimed. "What?" Drake snapped, turning in his direction. Pietro scowled, shaking his head.

"You're going to let _her _go?"

He flicked his gaze over to Pryde, and he knew, right then, that she understood exactly what he was saying, even though the other two didn't. She looked away, huffing a little, making like she wanted to just bolt. Pietro knew that look. He ought to have a copyright on it.

"What're you going on about, you dick?" Angel folded her arms. He shook his head in disbelief, before he finally sucked in a deep breath to combat his growing migraine.

"We are in Nazi-occupied Poland, you cretins." He addressed Drake. "You might, _at a distance, _be able to pass as a German." Pietro shifted his gaze to Angel. "And you would easily pass for a dirty Romani gypsy."

He pointed at Kitty.

"_She,_ on the other hand, won't be able to pass a horse and buggy without being pinpointed. If you send her out there, you might as well be painting a target on her back shaped like the Star of fucking David."

Silence, and then Kitty stepped up, slinging the pack over her shoulder as she turned to address the other two X-Men.

"It's okay, guys. I escaped them before and I'll do it again - "

"Kitty, maybe .. maybe he's right," Drake looked nauseated at having to agree with Pietro. "I didn't - I didn't even think about you being Jewish."

Pryde had thought about it, Pietro knew. She had known the dangers all along, even if her simpleton companions had not. She had courage, he thought begrudgingly. And enough sense not to state the obvious to her friends. Well, as usual, Pietro was more than happy to ruin someone else's blissful ignorance.

To add to his growing sense of accomplishment, Pryde was looking more and more irritated by the second. "I did this before, Bobby, and I'll do it again! I can escape a thousand times easier and faster than either of you!" She whirled around, fixing Pietro with an icy glare that he welcomed with a smirk.

"And you're Jewish, too, Maximoff!"

"Yeah, but I don't _look _Jewish." Pietro wiggled his fingers at Kitty. "You, _Jew-dy McJewerson_, look like you just got done eating a passover seder out of a yamaka by menorah light."

He watched with delight as she shrieked and stomped her foot. "Just shut it, Maximoff!" She turned to go again, but this time, Drake forcefully stopped her and made her hand over the bag.

"Angel and I will go - "

"But Bobby - "

"You stay here and make sure Maximoff stays put," he said firmly, giving Pryde's hand a little squeeze. Pietro furrowed his brows. "Right, because I'm definitely a flight risk these days. Ooh, no, you can't catch me!" he inched to the side a few times, dragging his legs in the dirt.

Three glares snapped in his direction before turning back on each other. Pryde was furious. "Bobby, it's _not safe - _"

"The longer you argue, the longer we have to wait to get everyone here some food and rest," Drake said, and finally, Pryde took a step back and sat heavily on a rock, her jaw tight.

"Fine," she ground out between clenched teeth.

Pietro watched as Drake and the other girl gave Pryde a quick hug each. "We'll be back soon," Salvadore promised, giving one last wave before she and Drake disappeared through a hole in the ice door, which reformed as they stepped away and disappeared into the woods.

* * *

Kitty hated feeling helpless. Being stuck in the cave was the worst kind of punishment, and not just because she couldn't help but think of all the horrible things that might happen to her friends. She exhaled, trying to slow the rapid pounding in her chest. After about fifteen minutes of dead silence in the cave, she'd had enough. She couldn't just sit around anymore.

She got up, feeling around the cave and finding the few things they had between them. Angel's lighter. The ration of dry food they'd found in the pack. Angel and Bobby had taken most everything else, just in case. Kitty made a face before she finally turned to face Maximoff, who was watching her curiously.

"What do you have, Maximoff? Empty your pockets. You must have, like, a pocket knife or something right?"

Maximoff's curious expression shifted into one of annoyance.

"Do I really look like the type of guy that carries around a knife?"

Kitty gave an indignant huff. "Plenty of guys carry around pocket knives, Maximoff!" she exclaimed, earning her a snort of derision.

"Yeah, guys like Lance, who have more cargo pockets than neurons."

Kitty growled. "Well, you know what, Maximoff? I would rather be stuck here with Lance than you! At least he'd be trying to do something!"

"Pryde, if Lance were in this cave right now, the only thing he'd be trying to do is put a baby inside of you," Maximoff said, before he quickly leaned back at Kitty's angry hiss.

"Be serious, Maximoff!"

"I am being _completely _serious."

"Just shut the hell up!" she snapped, wishing that Bobby and Angel wouldn't have left her here alone with him. Maximoff had a way of infuriating her that only seemed to happen in the sparse moments they were alone together. She liked it better when he had someone else around to annoy. It was obvious he lived for it.

To her surprise, he wiggled in his spot and reached in both of his pockets. "You want to see what I have, Pryde?" he asked, bringing out his hands. "I have - a spare key to Lance's jeep, a phone that doesn't work, chapstick, and my wallet." He tossed it all on the ground, his eyes narrowed. "Ta-da."

Kitty sighed, sinking onto a rock again and cradling her chin her hands. "Gee, thanks."

Maximoff waved his arms, fighting back a wince. "I live to serve. Oh, and you're more than welcome to any of the credit cards in my wallet. I'm sure Polish meatshops take American Express."

"Like any of those are yours anyway," Kitty couldn't help but mention, but Maximoff only shrugged. "Doesn't matter right now, does it?"

Kitty made a face, but he was right. It didn't matter a damn bit now.

* * *

"Uh, so maybe we _should _have brought Kitty with us. I have no idea which way we're going."

Bobby and Angel trudged side by side.

"Maybe I can go up above the treeline and look?" Angel suggested, but Bobby shook his head. "We don't need someone spotting you flying in the air. Let's just keep going on foot."

It felt like hours before they finally reached a clearing, but it came on them so suddenly that they both had to duck back into the shrubbery to avoid being seen.

"Shit!" Angel hissed, gripping Bobby's arm in a death grip.

There, just ahead of them, was the entrance to a village. It was small, something that had settled on the edge of a wide farming area. Bobby looked up over the thatched roofs, his gaze flickering over the men who walked in carefully practiced loops around the small bridge that marked the village's entrance.

Kitty's earnest testimony and evidence earlier had convinced him of the truth, but there was no subsitution for seeing it.

"Those are.. "

"Yeah," Bobby whispered back, still holding onto Angel's arm. German soldiers paced the front area, and he could see a few more walking around through the back. Haggard looking farmers and their families scooted around the uniformed men, trying to get on with their daily lives. Bobby leaned over and pointed.

"There," he said quietly, and Angel followed his gaze to a store front located at the south corner of the village. "It's all the way in the back," Angel whispered, twisting her body to look around. The village sat at one end of a wide, open field covered with crops Bobby couldn't identify. The other side was a steep drop-off into a low ravine that was nearly hidden by thick trees. His stomach turned for a moment as he considered how closely they'd been walking to that cliff the entire time.

"Alright, look, we're going to have to distract them. Bring them all to one places so we can sneak in and get what we need," said Bobby. "How do we do that?" Angel asked, already certain she didn't want to know the answer. Bobby tugged on her arm and they both moved.

Inside the village, Anka Filipek, third generation storeowner, kneaded dough in the window of her shop.

She had shelves lined with homemade jams in jars, loaves of bread freshly made that day, and what vegetables the others had managed to gather in the growing cold.

"_Hej, patrzcie_!" A young boy shouted. The boy waved his arms in front of her window, so she wiped her hands on her apron and followed him to the front door. He was pointing and jumping wildly, and when she peeked out, she noticed others were coming out of their homes and shops as well. Her brow furrowed, she moved into the street and down towards the bridge with all the others.

The soldiers had moved too, all of them, looking tense and uncertain at the sight that unfolded before them. It was the most beautiful thing Anka had ever seen.

A shimmering cyclone of icy air twisted in front of them, pushing and weaving a shape like a magnificent frozen tree in front of them. It continued to grow and grow, and Anka turned in a full circle in her spot in the street. Where was it coming from? How was this mystical tree forming?

The entire village stood, enraptured.

"_Mój Bóg_," old Fabian muttered, touching his hand to his chest. The soldiers had stopped staring now, Anka noticed, taking a step back. They were searching. They looked nervous. It was never a good thing when the soldiers looked nervous.

She hurried back to the safety of her shop, but when she shut the door and windows securely behind her, the sight of her shop did not bring her any comfort.

It was all _gone. _

In the place of all of her hard-earned stock was a simple note, written on the back of an order slip in messy black ink.

_Sorry_, it read.

"Do you think this will be enough?" Angel asked later, settling a burlap sack filled with bread over her shoulder. "I don't think this is what Kitty meant by high energy."

Bobby shook his head from where he stood settled against a tree. "I doubt it, but I don't know what else to - " he stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes catching a hint of movement beyond the treeline. He moved quietly, his body tense and ready for a battle. Had they been followed? Were the soldiers who had been looking suspiciously around the village hot on their trail?

When he emerged from the thicket, it was not soldiers he found. It was another field, but this one wasn't covered by rows of vegetables. Instead, cows roamed the area in front of him, moving slowly, without the slightest concern for Bobby's emerging form.

"I think.. this is more like it," he said. Angel appeared by his side and shook her head. "Well, damn. Let's get to work then."

* * *

"This is driving me crazy," Kitty admitted finally into the darkness of the cave. Bobby and Angel had been gone for _hours, _and neither she nor Maximoff had spoken a word for quite a while. She had even gone over to check on him at one point, because he seemed to be in danger of slipping out of consciousness.

"Yeah, it must be killing you not to be sitting in that fancy mansion of yours," Maximoff retorted with a pained groan. Kitty sat up and glared at him, her fingers curling at the knees of her dirty jeans.

"It's not my mansion, you tool. It's Professor Xavier's."

She watched as Maximoff tilted his head in her direction from where he was slumped against a rock. "Oh, forgive me. It's not _your _mansion. Just Daddy Warbucks. Or, as I like to call him, the Little Professor That Could." He made little rolling motions with his hands. "Choo-choo."

Kitty fell into silence again. Even listening to the drop of water from the cave top was better than hearing anything Maximoff had to say.

Or, at least, that's what she thought. Seven minutes later, when the constant _drip drip _began to threaten her concept of sanity, Kitty was startled out of her stupor by a rush of footsteps and breathless gasps.

Bobby and Angel tore through the ice door, laden with bags. Angel dumped hers on the floor and immediately began to rub her shoulders.

"God damn, I am not cut out for this!" she exclaimed, before grinning triumphantly at Kitty and pulling her into a hug. Kitty gripped her friend tightly and then rushed to Bobby to do the same.

"What did you get?" she asked, and Bobby grinned. "Enough, I think. Bread, preserves, some vegetables.. and steak." To Kitty's surprise, he reached into one of the larger bags and pulled out a large chunk of frozen meat.

"I won't lie, it's not FDA approved, but we don't really have the time for that right now."

Angel made a displeased face. "He had to freeze a cow and then cut it up with ice, but it was destined to get eaten anyway, right?" she asked, before she looked over at Maximoff, who was watching with interest from the floor.

"You are one lucky, skinny little bastard." She flipped her hair and began to work on the fire.

Kitty smirked at Pietro's grimace, but hours later, when they were all full and in much better spirits, she knew Angel was right. Anyone else would have left Maximoff in the dirt when those bombs started dropping. If Bobby hadn't thrown Maximoff over his shoulder, the speed demon would be dead now.

At the moment, he looked comatose. He'd eaten with flourish, sitting away from all the others, but now he was dead asleep next to his rock. Kitty finished her last mouthful of fresh bread and put the others away carefully. Bobby was reclined lazily against his folded arms, and Angel was curled around the duffel bag like a body pillow.

Her eyes moved over Maximoff's sleeping form again. He was a sorry piece of shit, but his life still mattered. She had to hold on to that thought, or the resentment inside of her would be full to bursting. Right now, though, with his mouth shut and his face relaxed, it wasn't all that hard.

_Then again_, Kitty thought with a little smile to herself, _I'm a nice person._

* * *

Author's Note: Don't worry, next chapter - BOOM! Out of the cave.


	4. Zone

Author's Note:

To anyone who is interested, I don't have a particular musical playlist in mind for this fic, but I do normally listen to Explosions in the Sky while writing. Also, thank you for the reviews and follows!

To TraitorousFreshman15, I hadn't even thought of including Wolverine! It's a splendid idea, though, and I think I might work it in somewhere. Sorry about Evan, but I needed people to know I meant business right from the start. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

To Gretlcascade, thank you for the review! To answer your question, Pietro eventually develops the ability to time-travel in the comics, but believe it or not, I came up with this story before I knew that! I just thought it made sense. The plot of this story, though, is mine. I hope you continue to enjoy it. (:

* * *

Sunlight pressed against the translucent ice that covered the cave entrance.

Inside, four bodies dotted the dirt floor, curled in various positions of sleep. Kitty Pryde was tucked against the wall, her head pressed into her arms, when she felt a hand gently shaking her. She groaned a little and turned away, but the hand was insistent.

"Kitty," Angel stifled a yawn before continuing. "Will you walk me outside? I have to go to the bathroom." She rubbed wearily at her eyes. Kitty lifted her head and squinted at her friend before looking around. Bobby was leaned up against the wall, his chin fallen to one shoulder. Maximoff was curled up in a ball on the ground near the corner, as physically distant from everyone as possible.

The two girls shuffled across the cave and Kitty took Angel's arm, walking them both through the cave wall to the grassy area outside.

"It'll just take a sec," Angel said with a little groan. She rubbed her neck as they walked a little further out and then ducked behind a tree.

Kitty stretched and cracked her back. The light outside had the faint pink of early morning, and the air was cool. It would have been enjoyable if she hadn't spent a restless night on a cold dirt floor. Kitty frowned down at her loose white cardigan. It was ruined.

"Man," said Angel from behind her tree. "I am having so much trouble trying to pee standing up." Kitty heard her friend shuffling in the bushes. She smirked a little, her eyes scanning the forest. The quiet was almost tangible.

"Yeah," Kitty agreed, rubbing her sore shoulders. "It's definitely easier for dudes." Ignoring her friend's cursing - apparently, she'd fallen over into a sticker bush - she stepped away a few steps and peered down at a low creek nearby. _Pretty_, she thought vaguely, before a hint of movement caught her eye.

She frowned, following the movement with her gaze, but it was gone.

Angel reappeared, grimacing as she wiped her hands on her jeans. "This is super gross," she complained. "I am not cut out for this shit. I can't believe people go camping for fun." She tilted her head at Kitty, scratching at her bed head. "What's wrong?"

She followed her friend's curious look, then glanced back at her when she saw nothing.

Kitty squinted again, but whatever had been there was gone. She shook her head. "Nothing," she said, moving to turn. "Let's go back - "

"_Halt!_"

A gun barrel pointed at her face. Her eyes widened and she stumbled back, only to fall into the chest of yet another German soldier. Angel gave a little shriek, moving quickly to Kitty's side. The two grasped hands, but didn't move.

Four soldiers surrounding them, all looking uncertain and wary. Kitty could hear others in the distance, closing in. Her entire body was tight.

"_Down! Hände über den Kopf_!" the soldier ordered, pointing his gun at the ground and then back at them. "Uh, Kitty..." Angel whispered nervously, her dark eyes flickering around them. Other soldiers were beginning to appear, and one of them pointed to the cave and its inexplicable wall of ice.

_Shit_, Kitty thought. She looked back at Angel.

"Hold your breath!" she exclaimed, before dropping them both directly into the ground. Panicked shouts and gunfire immediately followed, and when Kitty pulled them both back up in the cave, she immediately dove for their one pack.

Bobby and Maximoff were already on their feet.

"What the hell is going on?" Bobby looked up at the silhouettes suddenly appearing in front of the ice door. Shouting rang from outside and someone brought their fist up against the ice. Kitty tossed their limited supplies into the bag.

"We ran into soldiers outside. We've got to get out of here," she rushed, trying to push the tremor out of her voice. Maximoff clenched his fists.

"They tracked you guys all the way here? God damnit, Drake, what kind of attention did you attract while you two were out yesterday?" he yelled, and Kitty looked up to see a pained expression flash over Bobby's face.

"The kind of attention that would have them looking for weird ice sculptures," he admitted, and Maximoff scowled in response. He opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly everyone's attention was drawn to the ice door. And the beeping.

"GO!" Kitty shouted, but it was too late. The explosive burst the door into splinters of ice and shrapnel, knocking Angel off her feet and sending everyone else under the cover of their arms. Bobby yanked her up and ran for Kitty, who held out her hands.

"Everyone grab me!" she yelled, turning to hold out a hand to Maximoff. Her terrified gaze met his for just a split second before he grabbed her hand and they all jumped through the wall of rock, landing back in the wilderness. Other soldiers, further away, saw them reappear and pointed.

Gunshots started the race, and they all broke into a run.

Angel screamed, throwing her arms up over her head as gunfire cut into the air all around them. It splintered trees and crashed into the earth, sending up droves of dirt all around them as it peppered their every step. Kitty ran straight through the trees, moving her arms up on instinct as she fought to get as far away from the men as possible. It wasn't easy to phase through bullets, not when she was running like this.

They all four stumbled to a stop when six more men appeared directly in front of them, guns raised. "Fuck!" Maximoff shouted, before they all split up and dove behind thick pines. It was _deafening, _the noise from all the bullets, the shouts from the soldiers as they fought to close in on them. Kitty shrinked behind her tree and covered her ears, giving a little yell when a tree branch above her exploded under the barrage of gunfire.

She looked up, her breath catching in sharp, high-pitched heaves that no one could hear. Angel was just across from her, yelling into the ground as she struggled to stay covered by her tree. Up ahead of her, Maximoff was crouched down on one knee, and a soldier was closing in, gun raised. Bobby was somewhere close, she had seen him, but her angle would let her go no further without jumping directly into the line of fire.

She could hear Bobby shout, saying something to Maximoff, but his reply was cut out by the vicious noise. They were pinned down.

_We're about to be killed, _Kitty thought desperately. Tears threatened to blind her, and sobs to choke her, but she pushed them all back and set her face into a grimace instead.

_Not today, we're not, _she decided suddenly, and with that, she turned from her tree and burst into a full run.

* * *

His insides were burning. His body was pleading with him to let it recover, but he just couldn't let it. He was already feeling light-headed and delirious, and now -

"_Es! Nehmen Sie das Mädchen_!"

Pietro jerked his head up, his silver eyes wide. He turned in his spot just in time to see Kitty Pryde race by him, running at full speed straight into the oncoming gunfire. The startled soldiers had all turned their guns on her, but she was phasing right through them, her face set in what couldn't be described as anything but an feral snarl.

Pietro gripped the tree. "PRYDE!"

Time seemed to slow as she leapt at two men who stood shoulder to shoulder, poised to attack. The three of them toppled over backwards and then descended straight into the ground, disappearing completely.

When Pryde reappeared above ground moments later, she left the German soldiers behind, with only their twitching fingers exposed above the soil. She straightened slowly from a crouch and Pietro watched as she met the soldiers' gazes with a hostile glare of her own.

_Holy shit, _thought Pietro. He didn't blame the uniformed men when they recoiled in horror.

"_Töte sie!_" one of them shouted. Pietro jerked back behind his tree as the gunfire started again in earnest, but now that they were distracted, he had an opening. Leaping from behind the tree, he pushed his body into a good run and found the nearest soldier with his gun raised. His body was moving into hyperspeed again, and some part of his mind celebrated the final proof that his powers weren't gone.

He jerked the gun away, elbowed the man in the throat, cut his feet out from beneath him and then rammed the butt of the gun into the man's throat, all in a matter a second. Blood spouted from the soldier's mouth like a fountain. Pietro delivered a swift kick to his head and snapped his neck, his vision turning red for a moment as he fought to control himself from pummeling the corpse beyond recognition.

Instead, he popped up the gun and took out one - two - _three _men before anyone even registered that he had a gun.

It was empty, so he threw it to the side. It was then that he looked up and saw Pryde, staring at him, her eyes wild and her lips parted in surprise. What she was so surprised about, he wasn't sure, so he looked away and turned his attention back to the fight.

A female shout made him jerk to his right, and he saw a soldier wrapping his arm around Angel's torso, struggling to get her to the ground. The German snarled and finally threw her down before he levelled a gun at her head. He never got to fire the shot, though, because - to Pietro's great surprise - an ice spike impaled him in the neck and nailed him to a tree like a morbid ornament. His body slumped and his gun fell uselessly to the ground.

Drake stepped forward, his expression looking briefly distraught. He shook it away, though, and ran to the girl, pulling her up and away from the fallen soldier. Pietro looked away. Others were still around them, but their numbers were dwindling. They were trying to regroup, but Pryde wasn't willing to give them that chance, it seemed. Pietro watched as she swept the legs of a dumbfounded soldier and then slammed a palm into his chest before he even hit the ground.

She drove him all the way under and then left him there to suffocate.

One last German made an unwise attempt to subdue Pietro. It ended with a combat knife plunged in his neck and a broken spine for good measure. Pietro scowled down at the corpse, wrenching out the knife only to wedge it back into a different spot two or three times. Blood soaked his arm from the elbow down, but he didn't care.

_God fucking damnit. God fucking damnit all. _

He wasn't like Drake. As he stood to survey the damage, crimson staining his skin and sleeves, he felt no remorse. There was only one rule to survival. Kill or be killed. Guilt, regret, shame. Those were the things that landed you on the wrong end. Pietro did not plan to be that way.

Not ever.

His gaze moved up from the mangled bodies to those that were still standing. Drake was still holding into that Salvadore girl. She was running a shaky hand down her face and, Pietro suspected, trying not to cry. He looked up to see Pryde, standing some twenty feet ahead of them, her fists clenched and her chest heaving. Specks of blood dotted her face like freckles.

He watched her tuck her head to her chest for a moment, eyes closed, and he wondered what she was thinking.

"_Sie werden alle bereuen! Sie kämpfen nicht das Deutsche Reich!_"

Everyone's eyes moved up and around, but it was Pryde who saw him first. Pietro watched as she slowly approached the screaming man. It was a German officer. He was stuck in a tree, halfway phased into the trunk by one of Pryde's wild attacks. He was snarling like a wild dog, clawing at where the skin of his neck met the bark of the tree. How he was still alive was beyond Pietro, but he was obviously pissed off about it.

His eyes roamed Pryde's tense form as she moved to stand directly in front of the belligerent man. The German turned his tirade directly on her.

"_Lassen Sie sich in den Deutschen und wissen, dass jede Strafe, die Sie empfangen, zu gut für Sie sein! Gerade du, du verdammte Hure dreckiger Jude!_"

Pietro's jaw clenched. He heard the others move up behind Pryde, but the venom remained exclusively for her. He watched as she breathed in every word, every insult, with her little body shaking and her fingers curled tight. Her lips were pursed and her brows were furrowed, but she did not cry or look away. Pietro felt himself move forward, though he did not register it. He stood at Pryde's shoulder, his dark gaze never moving from the man's face. "What's he saying, Kitty?" asked Angel. Everyone looked look up in surprise when Pietro answered for her.

"Nothing worth repeating," he replied evenly, his voice low.

He raised a stolen pistol and ended the vicious tirade with a bullet. He felt Pryde jerk a little next to him, her hollow gaze turning to her blood splattered shoes.

He tossed the empty gun to the ground and turned away.

* * *

"Should we go back?"

Angel's shaky voice finally snapped her out of her foggy state. Kitty shook her head and sniffed a little, wiping at some of the blood and grime on her face.

"N - No," she cleared her throat. "No," she repeated more firmly. "Someone will come looking for this squad. We need to head out."

"Where?" Bobby asked, looking tired.

"The idea is the same," Kitty said, stooping over to pick up her pack. "We get out of Poland, go somewhere safe. Give Maximoff time to heal. And then get back to our time." She looked around, trying to push her vision past the dead bodies. "One of these guys has to have a map. Everyone spread out and look."

Maximoff was suddenly at her side.

"Yeah, but don't worry if it takes you a little while to find one that Pryde here didn't _gopher _into the ground," he said wryly. Kitty made an indignant noise and fought the urge to punch him in the jaw.

"Hey," he said snidely, turning to face her and lifting both brows. "That was a compliment_. _It was certainly the most useful thing _I've _ever seen you do." He studied her for a moment and seemed to sense her distress, because he snorted in disgust and turned, not looking at her as he spoke.

"You X-Men.. You think it's always so black and white, don't you?"

He moved away and began searching the bodies still above ground. Kitty wiped her face again and tried to gather herself. Fortunately, they didn't have to search for long before Angel's voice rang out proudly, "I found one!"

Kitty hurried over to her and took the map, scanning her eyes over it. "This is good," she said breathlessly. "It's most of the country, and.. here's Warsaw. It's the only city I recognize." She felt the others come to peer over her shoulder, though Maximoff kept his distance, she noticed.

"If only I knew where we were!" Kitty huffed, but Bobby interrupted her by pointing. "Hey, that's the village Angel and I were in! I remember seeing a wooden sign."

Kitty gave him a quick smile. "Are you sure?" she asked, and Bobby nodded. "Yeah, and that village was about five miles southwest of the cave, so... "

"So," Kitty said, walking with the map and looking all around them in a big circle. "We need to find Vistula River." She pointed on the map. "That will take us all the way to the coast." Angel tapped her foot. "Give me just a sec," she said, before unfurling her wings and leaping into the air. She disappeared through the treetops and returned a few moments later.

"I think I saw it. That way," she pointed east. Kitty sucked in a deep breath, prayed for energy, and then tucked the map away. "Then let's do it. Grab any supplies you can off of these guys and then let's get moving."

So they did.

In a line of four, one that varied in length and distance depending on who felt like being slow, they moved through the forest in mostly silence. They came to the river Angel had seen about an hour later, and the rushing torrent of water gave way to a wider area less congested with trees.

They oriented themselves with the map and then headed north, following the river on foot.

Kitty couldn't help but marvel at the natural beauty around them. Even in the deep of the forest, they encountered towering walls of rock, some with water pouring over the sides, and steep drop-offs that plunged into beds of conifers miles below. Occasionally, the wall of trees at their sides would break away and give a peek of the mountain views that sat all around them. Kitty could see the snow-topped peaks far in the distance, and the sight of how large and grand they were made her realize just how petty humans and their wars really were.

They walked for miles, unbothered by any other people and seeing no villages. They stopped a few times to gather water and chew on the dried food they'd found amongst the soldier's supplies. Kitty watched Maximoff for any signs of weakness, but he seemed to be avoiding them all in general. _Fine, _she thought with uncharacteristic venom. _Let him collapse. _

Finally, the sun began to set and the temperature dropped drastically. The wind was rolling in heaps off the water nearby, so they moved a little further into the forest try and get away. Kitty rubbed her arms, frowning.

"Bobby, can you make something to block the wind?" she asked. He nodded and dropped his back, before he picked out a tree he liked and set to work. To her amazement, he was able to engineer a rather large ice shelter, with the base of the thick tree serving as the center like a treehouse.

"Sweet," Angel said, moving to climb inside. Maximoff stood to the side with a look of complete and utter contempt.

"It is freezing as shit, and you want us to sleep in a God damn _igloo?_"

Angel stuck her head out. "You're welcome to sleep outside!" she chirped, before ducking back in. Bobby shot Maximoff a contemptuous smile before he climbed in as well. Kitty ignored him completely and went inside. She wasn't surprised when Maximoff finally followed a few minutes later.

"Here," Bobby said, opening up a small hole in the top of the shelter. They were able to make a small fire inside. He promised he could keep their shelter from melting, and to be honest, it was quite nice. Kitty leaned against the base of the tree and relaxed a tiny bit when Bobby closed the entrance off. It was better than lying out in the open, exposed to anyone or anything that went by.

Everyone else moved around the fire, except for that twat Maximoff, who chose to sit as far away as possible. Kitty paid him no attention. If he wanted to be that way, let him. She checked out her bag with the new supplies from the soldiers. They each had their own sleeping bags now, at least. She unfurled hers and stretched out on it. It was no feather bed, to be sure, but it was heaps better than the cold, itchy ground.

She shivered. It wasn't the ice shelter making her cold - she'd been feeling this way since the sun had started to drop. Angel had a jacket and, apparently, her wings to keep her warm. She was lying on her side with them folded around her arms and the sleeping bag pulled tight. Kitty eyed her friend enviously from across the dimly lit hut. Her cardigan wasn't even worth wearing anymore, but she kept it on anyway, because underneath she only had a camisole.

"You want my sweater?"

Kitty looked up. Bobby. Of course. She smiled and shrugged a little. "Nah, you need it," she said quietly. Angel was already asleep, and Maximoff must be too, because he'd finally shut his mouth. It was hard to tell, though. He was in his sleeping bag and turned away from the rest of them.

Bobby gave her a good-natured smile.

"I can regulate my body temperature to a certain degree," he admitted. "The cold really doesn't bother me." He pulled off the sweater before Kitty could protest, leaving him in only his white undershirt. He really didn't seem to be cold, though, and he _did _have a point about regulating his body temperature.

"Thanks," she whispered sheepishly, accepting the sweater. She couldn't resist a little groan when she yanked it on. It was still warm from Bobby's torso. "You're awesome."

Bobby gave a little laugh, his cheeks coloring a little.

"It's not a big deal," he murmured back. The fire had mostly gone out, and they hadn't wanted to risk a bigger one, so for now the ice hut was bathed in a cool shade of blue from the moonlight outside. Otherwise, it was dark.

They were quiet for a long moment.

"Do you remember.. that time when we went ice-skating?" Kitty asked, though she immediately regretted it. She bit the inside of her cheek. To her surprise, Bobby smiled.

"Yeah, I do.." he said quietly, shifting on his sleeping bag. "You told me you missed New Jersey... and you wanted it to snow." He was leaning on his elbow now, looking sideways at her. "It was nice."

Kitty smiled a little, turning her gaze to a thread on his sweater.

"Yeah," she agreed softly. A pregnant pause between them.

"I'd give anything to be back at that night," Bobby whispered suddenly. His face immediately turned scarlet. "I mean, you know... to be back at the mansion."

"Right," Kitty agreed with a little, uncertain chuckle. Finally, she turned away completely. "Well, good night."

"Good night," Bobby said, but she couldn't see his face or his frown.

She drifted off to sleep in mere minutes.

* * *

A feral grin crossed his features as he slowly leaned forward, careful to keep quiet. A long moment of inspection passed before he finally spoke, keeping his voice low.

"Don't you have a girlfriend, Drake?"

Bobby Drake's blond head shot up from where it had been balanced against his hand. He narrowed his eyes across the hut at Pietro, who merely smirked in response from his own sleeping bag. Drake rolled his eyes and turned over to his side.

"Of course I do," he whispered flatly. The girls were fast asleep.

Pietro made a thoughtful tu'tting noise. "Yeaaah, good ole' Rogue. She's a gem, alright." Drake clenched at his sleeping bag, but said nothing, so Pietro felt obligated to continue.

"You know, I can't really blame you. For flirting, I mean. It must really be a kick in the nads to have a girlfriend you can't even touch." He grinned when he noticed Drake's body tense up, so he went on.

"Especially since if you ever _did _try to stick your dick inside of her, she'd end up making snow sculptures outside while _you_ were on the floor, looking like one of those victims from The Ring."

Pietro immediately screwed up his face into an exaggerated mask of death.

"That's it!" Bobby hissed, leaping over the sleeping girls and leaving Pietro just enough time to jump out of the way.

"Hey, hey - Let these girls sleep, Drake!" he admonished mockingly, waving a finger in front of Drake's face. "They've had a hard enough day as it is without you getting them all riled up!"

He watched with delight as Drake fell back, scowling deeply and settling into his own sleeping bag next to Kitty once more.

"That's right, Drake." Pietro's whisper slithered across the room like a snake. "Spoon someone while you can." He waved his fingers and, just because he was delighting in this, said, "Honestly, I don't know why you even _want _to go back. Stay here and get laid for once. Might do you some good."

He felt the angry huff more than he heard it, but it was enough. Pietro reclined on his sleeping bag and smirked to himself. His job was done for the day.

* * *

Author's Note: More Kitty/Pietro action coming soon! I promise. (:


	5. Shift

Author's Note:

Hey guys! Just so you know, I am always making edits to previous chapters, so it be sure to go back and re-read sometime!

On a related note, I appreciate the follows for the story very much, but I would also really love a review! I know those of you reading on tablets or phones don't always have the time to type out a lengthy message, but just dropping a single line of encouragement would do me a world of good. I would love to know about other people enjoying this story.

Thank you!

* * *

When Kitty awoke the next morning, the crushing weight of reality made its daily appearance. They were still here. Evan was still dead. This was real.

Misery was starting to become routine.

She pushed away the negative thoughts and spent the first few minutes of her day studying their map. They just had to follow the river, she reminded herself. If they did that, they would end up on the northern coast of Poland and they could get a boat out of this hell hole. If they veered off.. well, it likely wouldn't turn out well for them.

"Ready to go?" asked Bobby, and Kitty folded up the map and nodded. She moved to pull off the sweater he'd given her the night before, but he shook his head. "Nah, wear it. You need it more than I do."

Kitty gave him a small smile, unable to vocalize her thanks quite so early without turning to tears. Mornings seemed to be the hardest so far. It was difficult to make herself get up and move, but she pressed on.

Her night had been troubled by poor sleep. Images of men gasping for air underground floated behind her vision, always present. She'd even dreamt about that officer, the one who had shouted the slurs at her from the tree. Perhaps most disturbing of all, Maximoff had shot him in the head from point-blank range and then walked away, as if nothing had happened.

They set out.

The four teens walked in silence. The morning was still cold and none of them had eaten breakfast, so no one seemed to have the energy to keep up conversation.

Unfortunately, that left Kitty alone with her thoughts.

How were they going to tell Xavier and the others that Evan was dead? How could they look Ororo in the face and explain to her that her beloved nephew was gone forever, never to turn seventeen?

Then she thought about the German soldiers, the ones she had left in makeshift graves. They might have survived this war in another timeline. They might have gone home to their wives, their sons and daughters, or even to their pet dogs, all of whom might have welcomed them home with tears and hugs.

They were men who were simply doing their jobs, and she had killed them.

She fought with herself to not be sorry, but she was. Kitty sighed deeply and moved her gaze up, because she kept tripping over the rocks that scattered the riverbanks, and she was going to fall over if she didn't start paying attention.

The landscape stretched out before them. It was beautiful, with rolling hills and deeply green trees. Even though the forest blocked their view of the mountains beyond, Kitty knew they were there. She had glimpsed them on the few occasions that the walls of conifers had cut away or dropped low in a ravine.

The wind was biting cold, but sunlight poured in between the treetops and cast the area in a warm glow. The river grew wide in some places and narrow in others, and occasionally she could see the small dips that created rapids here and there. The water stretched north as far as they could see, with no buildings or villages to be spotted from a distance.

The day went on without incident.

They camped at night, not saying much between them still. By the time they climbed into their makeshift ice shelter, the sounds of the forest - animals, whistling branches, insects - had given way to the clamor of far off battle. Distant gunfire rang so constant it reminded Kitty of rain, and the clamor of tank warfare echoed like thunder.

"It's pretty far away," Bobby volunteered quietly of the fighting. Everyone simply nodded and went to sleep, with Maximoff lying further away than anyone else.

* * *

His body was failing him again.

He had never in his life felt so weak. Unfortunately, his body never seemed to have enough respite (or nutrients) to heal like it needed. Everyone else seemed to have fallen into contemplative silence over the last two days, but Pietro was solitary only because his teeth were constantly gritted with the effort it took to stand.

"Are you okay, Maximoff?"

His silver eyed gaze flickered up and then narrowed. Pryde.

"Aside from the fact that being in your company is making my I.Q. drop, yes," he snarked, moving his hand away from his pained side as carefully as he could. She was staring at him from her place some ten steps ahead, but the other two hadn't even bothered to stop.

He watched as she rolled her eyes and waved a hand, before she readjusted her pack and continued walking. "Fine."

"Fine," he mimicked in his girliest voice. It wasn't his best retort, but he was lucky to wrap his mind around the concept of speech at the moment. Everything else felt far too tiresome.

He forced his body forward.

Their path along the river had originally taken them through relatively easy terrain, but now the river was wider and they were having to climb over boulders and small hills. Pietro managed, but barely. He stayed in the back of the line, glaring at anyone who dared chance a look back at him.

Finally, Pryde called for the others to stop. He barely kept from collapsing onto the ground. Instead, he kneeled heavily at the river and filled his stolen canteen with water, which he gulped greedily.

He glanced up to see Pryde watching him again, though it was Angel who spoke.

"You look like shit, Maximoff."

"Shouldn't you be on a _pole _somewhere?" he snapped, unmoving when Angel leapt for what he assumed was his throat.

"Alright, alright!" Pryde exclaimed, grabbing the girl and pulling her away. "Look, we're all a little tense because we're hungry. We've got to get some food." Pietro watched as Drake moved next to her. The three of them sat on the ground in front of him, and unfortunately, he wasn't in a position to move from his undignified slump against a large rock.

Pryde inhaled deeply and put on her best thinking face, which looked like an amusing amalgamation of anxiety and cross-eyed strain.

"We need to hunt," she decided finally. She reached into the her pack and pulled out two pistols from the soldiers they'd left in heaps of broken bones two days ago. "Yeah!" Angel said, perking up a little. "We can use these to hunt deer or something."

Pietro thought his eyes might literally get stuck in his brain from how often he rolled them these days. He glanced briefly at Bobby, who appeared to be supressing a grin. For once, they were of like mind.

"You can't hunt deer with these," Drake said, in a much more patient fashion than Pietro might've. Angel made a confused face. "Why not? A gun's a gun, right?"

This time, Pietro couldn't help but speak up.

"For God's sake, if you're going to talk, at least _try _to sound intelligent," he said, leaning forward and picking up one of the pistols. "You'd have an easier time beating a deer to death with this gun than shooting it."

"Yeah, he's actually right," Bobby admitted reluctantly, and Pietro glanced at the two girls to see them exchanging mutual looks of confusion. "What, is this like, some secret dude code or something?" Angel looked annoyed. "What the fuck is the big secret?"

"Nothing!" Drake said quickly, "It's just - nevermind. Just take our word for it. Even if you were to get close enough to a deer for this kind of gun to be in range, you probably still couldn't take it down."

Kitty Pryde scowled at the German pistols. "Well," she said, looking irritated. "Then what the hell do you even shoot with these?"

"Oh, I don't know," Pietro spoke up. "_Jews?_"

He loved the look of complete and utter contempt that flashed across the brunette's features before she kicked at his leg and gathered up the guns.

"Go kill yourself, Maximoff," she snapped, stomping off.

Pietro leaned back against his rock and slipped his hands behind his head, giving a quiet little exhale as he did so.

_Way ahead of you, Pryde. _

* * *

Another long day full of walking passed. They ate the last of their food during the day and had a dinner of walnuts at night. Everyone went to bed hungry and tired.

The ever present sound of gunfire in the distance followed them into sleep.

* * *

"Why couldn't my mutant power be the ability to produce bacon on command?" Angel asked on the fourth day.

"Because if you could make anything, it would be a _burrito_," Pietro answered.

* * *

It was the middle of the afternoon when Kitty Pryde heard a thump behind her that made her turn and find Pietro Maximoff slumped in a pile of underbrush.

"Guys!" she yelled to the others up ahead. She ran over to Maximoff and touched his shoulder. He was conscious, but it was a real testament to his depleted strength that he didn't shove her away.

"God, Maximoff," she worried, reaching to check his pulse. It was normally so fast, so much faster than hers, but it had slowed to a crawl. He murmured something, but she knew he couldn't articulate it any better than that, so she didn't ask.

"What is it?" Bobby asked, dropping next to her. Kitty shook her head. She hadn't been paying attention to Maximoff the last two days. He'd pissed her off and had joyfully retreated to the back of the line, where no one bothered him. She hadn't gotten a good look at him in a while.

"He's - I don't know, but it's not good. He needs real food or his body is going to shut down on him," she said. With Bobby's help, she turned Maximoff around and laid his limp body in a more comfortable position next to the river.

She looked around wildly, feeling guilt crawl into the empty space that anger had occupied just a few days before. "We have to do something, we have to - "

Her eyes widened suddenly.

"Guys, we are SO stupid!" she exclaimed, making Bobby fall over with the volume of her voice. "What? Who's stupid?" Angel appeared beside them. Kitty stood up.

"We've been walking next to a river this whole time and we haven't even been using it! We can fish!" Bobby and Angel gaped at her, but then Bobby said slowly, "We don't have fishing poles."

Kitty almost hit him. "Bobby, just FREEZE some of the fish and get them out of the river!"

"Oh!" he exclaimed, looking sheepish for a moment. He moved away quickly and headed to the river while Angel and Kitty tried to prop Maximoff off. He was muttering again, his head tilted to the side and his eyes fluttering closed.

"Stay awake, Maximoff. We're getting you some food," Kitty reassured him, grasping his upper arms tightly. He was starting to drift off again, so she snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Maximoff, wake up! Wake up or I'm telling Magneto!"

His eyes snapped open. She choked back a grin.

"Glad that got your attention.." she murmured. He squinted at her, looking terribly pale, but he still managed to speak.

"That was _low_... Pryde," he groaned, but Kitty could have sworn he almost sounded proud of her.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were eating cooked fish on a stick. He wasn't sure what the Polish called it, but if he were to give this fish a name, he would call it _The Most Delicious Fucking Fish in the Fucking World Ever._

By the time he'd finished his third one, he was starting to feel semi-normal again. By the time he finished his fifth, he was standing.

His body worked quickly in more ways than one.

"Better, Maximoff?" Pryde asked, long ago finished with her food. She was now reclined next to the river bank and was smirking at him. He made a face at her.

"Whatever," he said loftily, but he didn't insult any of them for the rest of the day. Three hours. What an accomplishment.

* * *

From then on, they "fished" from the river and then gathered what they could from the forest around them. Kitty used the combat knife in her pack to chop up some fruits and nuts she had found, and Bobby used his knife to filet the fish he caught. Angel often flew ahead of them just a bit in order to keep an eye out for approaching danger.

Maximoff was, more often than not, a wry commentator on their general surroundings.

Kitty was okay with that, so long as he wasn't being too antagonistic. Whatever he had to do to keep himself going was fine with her. They needed to get as far as they could before they ran across more soldiers.

Their progress was much improved once they were eating regularly, and Kitty began to feel the tiniest tendril of optimism. They were going to reach the coast, and they were going to get the hell out of here.

And yet, as usual, fate had other ideas.

"Oh my God," she managed to gasp before jumping back as far as she could. Maximoff moved around her and leaned over.

"Hey Pryde," he said with a sinister smirk. "Would you like to go swimming?"

Kitty gave him a dark glare. The river they'd been following so faithfully for the last four days had come to a head at the top of a vicious looking waterfall. One glance over the edge revealed a drop of some seventy feet, complete with rushing water and jagged rocks.

Kitty hated heights. Honestly, she felt cross-eyed at the idea of having to look over the steep falls again.

"It's okay, Kitty. We'll find a way around," Bobby said. She heard Maximoff huff of the side.

"Right," he said, tapping his foot impatiently. "Because that won't take a WHOLE day. Look around you, Drake." He gestured. Kitty glanced up and noticed Maximoff was right. This patch of forest had reached its end along a steep wall of rock that seemed to extend for miles. It might have easier access to the east or west, but they was no way of knowing for sure.

"Well, I know how _I'm _getting down," Angel spoke up with a little grin. She gave Kitty a sympathetic look, though. "Sorry, I'd carry you if I could, but I'm not strong enough. We'd both just - " she made an animated noise and then followed it with a _splat._

Kitty turned a little green.

"Thanks for the visual, Angel."

Bobby peered over the edge again thoughtfully. "I could make some ice stairs," he volunteered. "They might not be too steady, but it's the only way I can think of."

Kitty swallowed. "Not to offend or anything, Bobby, but walking down _a _sheet of _ice _is not really appealing." Still, they didn't have a whole lot of other options, and in the end, that was exactly what they did.

So it happened that Bobby extended hands and concentrated fully, his entire body turning to ice as he exerted his utmost control. He stepped off the rocky face and onto his first step of ice. Another step, and he moved further down, and so he went, step after step after step.

"Stay close to me," he said. "I don't know how long I can keep up the ones behind us."

Up ahead, Angel was zipping around, her wings humming. She moved out far ahead of them, completely unimpaired by the stomach turning heights.

Maximoff went behind Bobby, mainly because Kitty gestured him forward shakily. When it finally came time for her to step onto the stairs, she found her body shaking.

She took a deep breath.

_You can do this, Kitty. Just follow the steps. One. At. A. Time. _

The spray from the falls dotted her back, and if she had bothered to look up from her feet, she might have noticed what a spectacular view the cliff face offered. As it was, she could not lift her gaze for anything in the world.

One step. Two step. Three step.

Her ankles trembled.

Her arms felt like jelly.

Four step. Five step.

_Keep going, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. _

* * *

Pietro wouldn't admit it to a soul alive, but he didn't like this heights shit, either.

Stairs made of ice were a terrible idea under the best of circumstances. To navigate them on the way down a roiling waterfall - and above a bunch of pointy, angry looking rocks - just seemed moronic.

But hey, he'd faced worse situations and lived, so he sucked it up and went on. He could ignore the gnawing fear in his side, but he couldn't ignore Bobby Drake when he stopped suddenly in front of him and turned around.

"Hell," he could Drake mutter. "Kitty!"

Pietro looked back, not turning fully like Drake, but instead just twisting his torso. He closed his eyes briefly in a grimace.

Kitty Pryde was frozen to her spot.

And not because of the ice, either, _har har, _Pietro thought wryly. No, she was petrified. It seemed she had chanced a glance up from her feet and had simply stopped her descent altogether. Her fingers were curled in claw-like positions at her sides, and her expression was stricken.

Drake gave a despairing sigh in front of him.

"Maximoff, she has to move or I can't continue. I can't keep the stairs up."

Pietro growled a little. _God fucking damn it. This shit_.

Moving away from Drake, he edged back up the stairs just a little. Pryde was a good five or six steps behind him.

"Pryde!" he called to her. Her eyes flickered up at him, her lips parted. He had never seen her look so utterly terrified. A part of his stance softened after he saw her face. He tried to look more welcoming than irritated, but it was difficult. She was slowing him down.

"Come on, you can't stay there. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you'll be back on the ground."

She didn't move. The oversized sweater that Drake had given her was lopped to one side, hanging off a pale shoulder, and it dwarfed her shivering form.

"Pryde," Pietro said carefully, drawing out her name in warning. "You need to _come on. _For God's sake, you're one of a handful of people in the world who could survive a fall like this."

"It doesn't mean I'm not still scared!" she shrieked suddenly, jarring Pietro and almost making him lose his footing.

"Christ, woman, just grow a pair and WALK!"

"You're not helping, Maximoff!" he heard Drake hiss from behind him. "Now hurry up!" Pietro breathed in deeply and calmed himself. He moved up another step.

This time, he reached out a hand to her.

"Come on, Pryde," he said, his tone quieter now. "You can do this."

He watched as her brown eyes flickered to his extended hand and then peeked over the side of the stairs. She whimpered a little and bit her lip deeply. Her lips flushed red, Pietro noticed.

He curled his fingers invitingly.

"Just grab my hand," he coaxed. "I'll walk you down."

Slowly, slowly, Pryde managed a small step forward. "Don't mess with me, Maximoff," she warned shakily. He rolled his eyes a little. "If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it already. Right now, I'm just trying to get us all off this fucking staircase of death."

His fingers flexed again, and now she was close enough to reach out to him. Their hands slipped together, and he felt her iron grip fall into his before relaxing just a little.

He breathed in his own sigh of relief and squeezed her hand gently.

"Now just step..."

She did so, in small, uncertain movements. After a few stairs, though, she became a little more confident and rested her other hand over his as well. Both of her small palms fit in just one of his.

He stayed on his step until she reached him, her fingers tight in his.

"Okay," she breathed. "Let's go."

Pietro studied her face for a moment before turning, leaving their joined hands behind him as he moved down behind Drake, who had started to move again. Up ahead, the ground was coming closer and closer.

_Finally_, Pietro thought.

_Whoosh. Whooshwhooshwhoosh. _

A fighter plane zipped by, and it sounded so close overhead that Pietro thought for a moment that it was falling right on them. Then another, and another, uniform planes flashed across the sky right above their heads. The first plane had knocked Drake off course with its sudden appearance.

The second, third, and fourth made him lose his concentration entirely.

The stairs melted beneath them, and when they all three plummetted straight down, Kitty Pryde wasn't the only one who let out a blood curdling scream.

Pietro's hyperspeed mind registered that Angel managed to catch Bobby Drake and swing him away from the rocks, but he and Pryde were not so lucky.

They plunged into the turbulent water and were immediately enveloped by what felt like a thousand icy needles.

The water was dark.

It pushed them behind the waterfall and into a dark cavern under the cliff wall. Beyond it, more water tumbled into an even deeper pit.

His limbs were flailing to find purchase, and it took him a moment of stricken panic under the water to realize he was still holding Pryde's hand. He yanked on it and suddenly her terrified face was visible in the murky water.

He tried to pull her along, but the churning water from the falls was pushing them back, down away from the mouth of the cave. Pietro felt it slam him up against a rock and he almost lost Pryde's hand. The only sound under the water was the distant rumbles of the falls and his own bubbled gasps.

Pietro pushed up as hard as he could, Pryde's hand crushed in his own. He kicked and flailed, fighting the moving water with all of his strength. He surfaced for just long enough to gulp down some air before it pushed him down again.

The crash of the water around him meant that he couldn't hear Drake and Angel yelling for them.

Under the glassy surface, he had just enough light to see the water spilling into the deep, rocky pit that sat well below the level of the river.

_Oh, fuck that shit. _

Pietro scrambled in earnest now, yanking Pryde along with him in the rolling water. At one point, he was knocked back so far that his feet hit the lip of the cavern pit. He could feel Pryde being sucked away from him by the angry pull of the rushing water. If he let go of her, she would be carried away in seconds.

So he didn't. Instead, he yanked her up to his height and hooked an arm tight around her stomach, crushing what was probably her last breath.

Then he pushed, with all of his strength, with one useable arm and two furiously swimming legs. His chest felt like it was on fire and he was probably losing brain cells by the second.

Suddenly, his hand rose from the water and found purchase on a broad rock. He used it to heave himself out of the water with a loud, gargled gasp. He yanked harder on his right arm and Pryde came up next, choking and sputtering against the rock.

She breathed in raspy gulps of air next to him. Her hands came up to weakly claw at the rock, and Pietro used the last ounce of his strength to tighten his arm around her hips and push her up out of the water.

He was secretly relieved when she immediately turned and offered him both of her hands. With her help, he made it up onto the rock and steadied himself carefully.

Ragged panting and gargled noises echoed.

Pietro glanced over at Pryde, who was, like him, soaked from head to toe and sitting with her mouth gaping open.

He wiped at his face with a soaking wet sleeve and fell back against the rock, his hand over his heaving chest. It was Pryde who finally spoke up, her voice dry and cracked.

"No, Maximoff..." she managed finally, giving him an exhausted sidelong grin. "I _would not _like to swim."

* * *

Kitty nearly fainted in relief when she heard Angel and Bobby calling for them. In a matter of minutes, they were on the banks of the river and away from the water's edge. Her entire body _hurt _with cold, and the sweater Bobby had given her felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. She pulled it off with a great deal of effort and crossed her arms over her shivering chest, now left only in her camisole.

She watched with envy as Pietro Maximoff broke into an inhumanly fast spin. Seconds later, he was completely dry.

He brushed off his shoulder and then straightened his hair, paying them no attention at all.

"Don't suppose you could do that for Kitty?" Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow. Maximoff finally looked up and raked his gaze over Kitty.

"Sure, if I wanted to give her Shaken Baby Syndrome."

Bobby made a face and stepped forward, running his hands up and down Kitty's bare forearms. "Don't worry, we'll get you warm soon." Angel nodded, and then jumped up excitedly. "Oh, I know! I saw a house down the bank while I was flying. It had a clothesline out. I can find you something there."

She jumped directly off the ground and flew away. Kitty clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering, but Angel was true to her word.

By the time darkness fell in its entirety, the others had started a fire, caught some dinner, and left her alone to change clothes behind some thick trees. Angel was hanging up her wet clothing, she knew, so she could return the stolen clothes tomorrow and not feel quite so guilty for taking someone's things.

Though, at the moment, she wished she'd have just kept her damn wet clothes on.

The pants Angel had found for her were too big to wear, so that left Kitty with only the men's shirt she was currently fighting with. It was long enough to hit her at mid-thigh, but she'd wrapped Angels jacket around her waist in an attempt at modesty anyway. Unfortunately, her legs and feet were still mostly exposed.

The heavy linen of the shirt wasn't cooperating under her fingertips, and even though it was warm and much better than her wet sweater, she was currently cursing its creator with all her might.

"Men's shirts button the opposite way," Pietro's voice was quiet as he rounded a tree. Kitty jumped, her fingers fumbling and dropping. The dim light of the campfire flickered behind him, out of view.

Kitty flushed a little, looking back down at the shirt again. He was right. No wonder her fingers didn't seem to be working properly.

"That's stupid," she said to the shirt, annoyed. "Why is that?"

"Because," Pietro said, moving to stand in front of her. She hurried to finish buttoning the shirt, but the top button still hung low below her collarbone. "... traditionally, men were not dressing and undressing themselves."

"Oh," Kitty said quietly. She curled her bare toes into the soil and looked away from his intense gaze. She chose instead to focus on her cuffs. It was growing colder by the minute, and she wanted every possible part of her skin covered.

After fumbling with the tiny, stiff buttons for a moment, Kitty gave up and looked up at Pietro's face. He was watching her from just a step or two away, silent for the first time in recent memory.

She extended her cuff to him wordlessly.

To her surprise, he stepped forward and took up her wrist. His fingers quickly and easily adjusted the sleeves and buttoned the cuffs, and then he lifted her other hand, doing the same. His fingers lingered for a moment at the last button, a fingertip brushed against the inside of her wrist.

Kitty's moved her gaze up to his and a long moment of silence passed between them in which she wondered how his expression could possibly be so unreadable.

"Kitty!"

She jumped, turning quickly. She felt Maximoff's hands drop away long before Angel appeared around the tree. The darker girl spared an annoyed glance for Maximoff, who returned it in earnest, before she settled a smile on Kitty.

"I hung up your clothes near the fire. They should be okay by the morning. Come on, we can zip our sleeping bags together for warmth." Kitty nodded, looping arms with Angel and moving back towards the campsite. She glanced back over her shoulder just once, but Maximoff was already gone.


	6. Flashback

Author's Note: Sorry for the lag! I have been getting together a costume for DragonCon and it has been consuming my evenings. Whoo! Anyone else going? Shawn Ashmore, Bobby Drake/Iceman from the X-Men movies, is one of the guests! Also Patrick Stewart/Xavier!

TraitorousFreshman15 - Thank you for being such a faithful reader! If even one person is following this story, it is definitely worth it. And don't worry, even though this is a rather dark story, I will always make room for fluff.

SunnyOdd - New reviewer! Hooray! Thank you for the review and the notes. To be honest, I've never paid ALL that much attention to Bobby in the comics, and in the movies, he's rather serious. But I will definitely try to work in some lighter moments, now that you've brought that to my attention. And Pietro Maximoff is without a doubt my favorite character to write. I laugh at my own jokes anyway. I spend hours laughing at Pietro's.

Ebble - Thank you for the review! Sorry this took so long, and I hope you're continuing to read!

On to the story. Oh! One last thing. I've changed my mind about music, and I will be adding song suggestions to each chapter. For this chapter, it will be "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap. And yes, it will be a touch sad.

* * *

"You're getting pretty good at this, Bobby."

Kitty smiled and got to work starting the campfire for their lunch. Angel hovered overhead, and Kitty could hear her wings beating like a hummingbird. Bobby returned her smile before bending over and finishing his task with the fish, melting it out of the ice block and then cutting it up. Kitty finished the fire and straightened, her hands on her hips.

The day was warmer than it had been before, and it felt good on her bones. Bobby's oversized sweater was her choice of attire once more, though it had taken an entire day to dry completely.

Maximoff, as usual, didn't make his appearance until the food was ready. Kitty divided up their food, looking up as Angel landed in front of her with her arms bundled.

"Look what I found!" she exclaimed. She handed Kitty a plump pear and then bit into her own. She handed Bobby and Maximoff one each as well before they all settled down to eat, crunching and munching taking up residence in the silence that followed.

Kitty glanced over at Pietro Maximoff, who was inclined casually near the riverbank. He was eating his fish, but not the pear Angel had given him. He'd dropped it to the ground in front of his knee. Kitty made an annoyed face and nudged him with the tip of her shoe.

"Are you not eating that just because Angel gave it to you?" she asked. Maximoff glanced up, his thoughtful expression shifting into one of confusion. He looked around and then down at the pear.

"That?"

"Yes," Kitty raised both brows at him.

"I can't eat that," Maximoff said immediately. He shifted away from her a bit and focused on his fish. Kitty rolled her eyes. "Why not?"

"Because I'm allergic to pears," he said with no preamble. He continued eating, though he glanced up at her for just a moment before turning his attention back to his fish. Kitty squinted. "You're lying."

Maximoff finally settled his gaze on her. "Why would I lie about something like that?"

"I don't know," Kitty said, perplexed.

Maximoff gave an aggrieved sigh. "Well, it's true. Ask my sister some day, if you're feeling brave." He crunched into his fish, still watching her. Kitty tilted her head, turning her own pear over in her hands. "Why is that so hard to believe?" Maximoff asked, looking annoyed. Kitty paused and thought.

"I don't know," she said slowly. "You having a food allergy just seems so... "

"Human?" he supplied, narrowing his eyes a little. Kitty flushed a little. "Well, yeah," she admitted, straightening her torso. She shrugged, biting into her own fruit again. She drew her eyes away from his, suddenly uncomfortable.

She saw him stand out of the corner of her eyes and brush himself off.

"You've seen me almost choke to death on my own blood, Pryde." He looked down at her, his mouth tight. "If that isn't human enough for you, I don't know what is." He sneered and walked away.

Kitty pursed her lips, sticky with fruit nectar, and suddenly decided she didn't like pears all that much.

* * *

They camped near the riverbank that night, and because it was unseasonably warm, they stayed outside for a while and sat around the fire.

Pietro sat further back than the others, as he tended to do.

Pryde was directly across from him, her arms wrapped around her knees, that too large sweater hanging off her. Pietro flicked his gaze to Bobby Drake right next to her. He was smiling and laughing at something that Salvadore girl had said. He smiled a lot, Pietro noticed. It was unnerving, not to mention annoying. He acted like such a big hero, trying to protect those girls when he had no real capacity to do anything other than make empty threats and occasionally impale a random soldier before it got to the business of killing someone.

"... one thing I don't miss," Pryde was saying with a laugh. "Dealing with the bathroom situation at the mansion was the worst! I wish the Professor would just add more. I mean, it's not like he doesn't have the room."

Pietro rolled his eyes to himself and picked at his shirt. Mansion problems. _What a nightmare. _

Angel Salvadore remained unusually silent during most of the exchanges. She was messing with her shoe.

"I hope my parents don't know I'm gone," said Pryde, her smile melting away. "I'd hate for them to be worried." Bobby nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I mean, my parents are in Boston. I usually visited them pretty often. I miss my brother, even though he is a punk sometimes."

Angel continued to worry with her shoestring. Pietro watched as she curled it around her fingertip. "What do you miss, Angel?" Drake asked, and she finally looked up and shrugged.

"Just the mansion, I guess. Everyone being there, at the dinner table." She kept her eyes low. "Storm, Jean, Professor. Everyone always trying to.. help you, train you.. Stay up late with you, if you needed..." Her voice trailed off. The other two X-Men fell silent at their friend's apparent thoughtfulness.

"When they first brought me to the mansion, you know, I had a room to myself. I was like, the odd number or something." She frowned. "I hated it so much, being in there by myself. It felt like such a huge, empty room." Her lips quirked. "I was glad when Jubilee moved in. I mean, she can be crazy, but .. I always loved going to sleep knowing someone else was in the room with me. Just in case."

Pryde leaned over her bunched knees and laid a cheek against her jeans.

"I forgot you lived in a group home before coming to the mansion," she said softly. Angel lowered her eyes again, though she kept her strained smile.

"Yeah, I mean, I had no idea how different it would be to live at Xavier's. I thought it was just another group home."

Her dark eyes moved to the fire. Pietro watched the entire exchange without a word or hint of movement.

"But it was so much more than that. I got to - to meet you guys, and I had people around me who knew what it was like to have to hide." She twirled her shoelace again. "Even though these kids came from rich homes or happy families, they knew what it was like to feel just like me. They knew what it was like to feel like - like you're completely _alone." _

"What happened to your parents, if you don't mind me asking?" Drake shifted in his spot, and Pietro's eyes flickered to him, his own lips tight.

Angel opened her mouth to speak, paused, and then opened it again. "I don't know about my dad, but my mom - she was like, a drug addict," said Angel, sweeping a piece of dark hair behind her ear. "The worst part was, she was always 'cleaning up her act' every few years, and she kept coming to every foster home I was in to try and get me back. And the stupid court would always do it, too, like let me go and stay with her for five or six months. I always ended up left alone at a bus stop or in a gas station, because she would get really fucked up and just forget about me."

A short, humorless laugh.

"I even had this one foster family - the Sheltons. They were this older couple, really, really nice. All of their children were grown, so they took in foster kids like me. I was their only one for almost two years. It was the longest I stayed in any home. I loved it," she took in a trembling breath. Even from his spot far away, Pietro could hear the tears forming in her voice as it fought to keep steady.

"They loved me too, I think. They told me they wanted to adopt me. I was only twelve." She breathed in deeply. "I was so happy, because I had always thought I'd just keep getting bounced around. At their house, I had my own stuff, I got hugged and kissed and they helped me with my homework. I got picked up from school and taken to dance class. For the first time ever, I felt like I had a real set of parents." Her face tightened into the type of grimace that meant she was trying not to cry.

"Then my _stupid _birth mom came and ruined it. She got the courts to give me back to her, and I had to leave the Sheltons' home to go live with her again." Her tone grew heavy with anger.

"How is that even possible?" she fumed, talking to no one in particular. "How can someone fuck up that many times and still be allowed to keep their kid? She left me - like always - just three months later. By the time I knew what was happening, the Sheltons had adopted a different kid!" Angel threw a handful of dirt at the fire.

"Stupid bitch. I hope she's dead," she hissed at the flames.

A long moment of silence passed before she continued.

"I ended up in a county-run group home after that and stayed there until the Professor came for me." She rubbed the heel of her hand over her eyes and shook her head sadly.

"The Sheltons were more parents to me in two years than that woman was in my entire life."

Silver eyes flickered over the scene as Kitty Pryde slid closer to Angel and looped an arm around her shoulder. She let her brunette head fall on Angel's shoulder, and the darker girl rested her own on top of Pryde's.

From his spot in the darkness, just out of the illumination of the campfire, Pietro Maximoff tightened his grip on his upraised knees and closed his eyes tight.

* * *

_"Wait - No - Just loop it through like I showed you. Be patient, little Pietro."_

_"I don't like being patient. Stuff takes too long!" _

_A chuckle, and the older man took the thread away from the small boy. "Well, you won't like growing up, then. Everything takes longer when you're old." _

_He looped the fishing line through the hook and then handed it back._

_"Not me," Pietro said with a grin. He cast out his pint-sized fishing pole, delighting when it hit the water next to the bait of the larger pole next to him. "I'm going to be so super fast!" _

_"I bet you are," the man said to him. They settled on the bank of the river together. Behind them, a woman stood on the steps of a covered wagon and draped drying sheets over the top to dry._

_"Daddy?" _

_"Yes?" _

_"Does the sun go into the water when it sleeps?" _

_The whir of fishing line sounded and then another plop as the bait resettled in the water. "Not quite," the older man answered with another chuckle. "It just moves away from us, where we can't see it." He pointed across the lake, to where the sun continued its descent behind the horizon of a lake that flickered with streams of orange. _

_"See? It's leaving us, but it's not going to sleep." _

_"What does it do, then?" _

_"It goes to other parts of the world, so it can give them light, too." _

_The little boy bit down on his tongue in thought. "Why can't it stay here with us? We could have sunlight all the time! And play all day!" _

_"And what would other little boys do if they never had any light?" The older man tapped the silver-haired boy on the head lightly. "All of us need the light the same, son. The only difference is what we do with it." He placed an arm around the child's shoulders. _

_The little boy tilted his head, leaning it against the warm torso next to him. He made a thoughtful noise and fell into a rare moment of silence._

_"Django! Pietro! Come on, now, dinner is ready..." _

* * *

Kitty had scarcely stirred against her sleeping bag when a hand clamped over her mouth.

She gave a little squeak and twisted fiercely in her sleeping bag to see her assailant, but the hand was quickly removed. Pietro Maximoff put his finger to his lips quickly and shushed her.

Kitty's lips were still parted in surprise, but she moved her gaze over to where Maximoff's had fallen. Silhouettes moved on the outside of their ice shelter. The warm glow of early morning sunshine cast their forms in dim gray outlines.

One of them knocked against the outside of the hut lightly. Their confused murmuring was audible. Kitty fought to control her breathing, her insides seized with fear. She slowly looked up at Maximoff, who was watching the curious shadows with a tight grimace.

Kitty's gaze slid over to the other two sleeping bags. Bobby and Angel were still asleep, completely unaware of their visitors.

She looked back at the wall again and listened hard to distinguish the voices. They were definitely German, but they seemed unaware anyone was inside of the frozen hut. Instead, they were moving around it and poking at it with their guns, utterly perplexed.

Pietro caught her attention with a silent wave and then gestured. He pointed to her, and then himself, and then to the back of the hut. Kitty nodded and slipped out of her sleeping bag. She touched his shoulder and they both dissolved into the ground.

They reappeared slowly behind a tree a few feet away from their shelter, with Maximoff crouched behind Kitty's still form. He moved his hand away from her shoulder and edged around her to get a better look. Kitty craned her neck.

Six soldiers. All of them German, all poking around the shelter and talking among themselves. Kitty curled her fingers in anxiety. The raging battles were never too far away from them. They didn't need these soldiers reporting back what they had found. To make matters worse, the uniformed men were growing more aggressive in their treatment of the ice shelter. They were going to break through it soon, and Bobby and Angel were still inside.

"We don't need to draw attention to ourselves with a firefight," Kitty whispered to Maximoff. She glanced at his face, so close to hers, as it turned slightly in her direction.

"Then we won't," he murmured.

Kitty watched as he tensed on his heels for just the barest moment, and then he was gone.

The soldiers never even had a chance to react.

Pietro was nearly invisible, nothing more than a blue-grey blur, but Kitty could see the soldiers as clear as day. The first man suddenly bent backwards in an impossible arch, and the crunch of his spine was painfully loud. Then another blow, and another, and suddenly he was very nearly in half on the ground.

Another man dropped in matter of seconds, a knife in his throat and his legs cut out from underneath him. One man looked like he was contorting in midair, but it was Pietro moving so quickly that only the bone crushing result of his blows was visible. All in a matter of seconds, bodies dropped and fell in various states of gruesome death. One soldier landed in the earth with his head facing the wrong way, and yet another managed only a short scream before his windpipe was crushed by what Kitty could only assume had been Pietro's shoe.

For a brief moment, she remembered their earlier fight in the forest, when she'd been taken aback by his savagery.

Pietro slowed at the last soldier just enough for Kitty to see him grab the man's wrist, twist himself fully over the soldier, and then land again with the man's arm cracking behind him in such a sickening break that Kitty had to look away. Another lightning fast thump to the man's head by Pietro's fist and he slammed into the ground.

All in all, it took about six seconds.

When Kitty finally worked up the courage to open her eyes, she saw Pietro Maximoff standing with his back to her. Blood splattered the entire area, but Maximoff was just standing over the pile of corpses and staring. He exhaled, giving a little, audible pant every so often.

Kitty slowly moved from her spot behind the tree and walked up to him, carefully avoiding a glance at the fallen soldiers. She stood at his shoulder and clenched her teeth a little, unsure of how she felt. She desperately wanted to alleviate some of the tension. Her muddled mind attempted some levity.

"I'm beginning to think you've been taking it easy on us all these years, Maximoff."

She hoped her airy tone would disguise the true thoughts behind her words. Pietro Maximoff shifted next to her. His expression was grim, without its usual smirk.

"You'd be doing me a favor," he said quietly, "to think that what you've seen is the worst I've done."

He tossed something on the pile of bodies and turned. Kitty watched his retreating back before she looked back to what he had dropped.

It was a dismembered hand.

Shredded skin dangled from where the joint had once been. Kitty covered her mouth and snapped her eyes closed, feeling tears pushing at her lids. A half hour later, she ate nothing for breakfast, and neither she nor Maximoff made a mention of the incident to Bobby or Angel.

They moved on.

* * *

The closer they got to the coast, the more traveled roads they came across. Once, they even saw a long train riding on distant tracks. The only sign they could see in that direction read _Treblinka._

* * *

"Go on, keep trying."

"You can not be serious."

"I mean it. Keep trying, dumbasses. You will not be able to name something I have not _personally _seen Blob try to eat."

"Let me try ... uh, a lightbulb."

"Okay, that one was my fault. I dipped it in sprinkles."

"_What_?"

"We didn't have cable, Drake. Entertainment value came and went as it pleased."

Traveling conversation quickly became something of a commodity.

* * *

"Whoa, whoa. "

Kitty Pryde held up her hands to her companions, stopping them all in their tracks. The others moved up behind her, and Angel leaned forward. None of them touched the paved road, as if toeing its edges was enough to keep them safe from prying eyes.

They'd been bypassing all major roads to avoid being spotted, but the river was coming up on more and more villages. Kitty hadn't been paying attention - _stupid, _she scolded herself mentally - and now they stood at the foot of an arching stone bridge, no more than eight or nine feet across, that led to a well-traveled road. However, it was framed on both sides by the heavy forest that lined the river, and it was difficult to see beyond the bend.

Kitty glanced down one end of the road and then the other, but they couldn't see anything.

Overhead, thunder clapped in the distance. Trees offered shelter on both sides of the river, but the opposite side was quickly becoming flatter and easier to traverse than their current route. "Come on, it's clear. Let's cross here and keep going until it gets dark."

The others followed her onto the cobblestone bridge. Angel paused just a moment to peer over the side, but Bobby and Maximoff followed close. A few moments later, Kitty heard her move away from the bridge, but she quickly stopped again.

"Hey, look!"

When Kitty turned, she found Angel peering down the road, around the corner of trees and shrubberies. "There's a village over there."

"Then we should avoid it," Kitty said firmly. "Let's go."

Angel stepped closer, and Kitty huffed a little. Angel was such a troublemaker sometimes. "Come on, let's check it out. I think it's empty."

"Empty?" Bobby repeated, raising a brow. "What do you mean?"

He followed her down the street a few steps, and shadows from the trees overhead cast them both in darker hues. Maximoff rolled his eyes next to Kitty. He seemed just as annoyed as she was at the delay.

"You know, if you two were rats, you'd have broken necks and no fucking cheese right now."

Kitty shoved his shoulder a little, and he swatted at her half-heartedly in return. More thunder rolled behind her, and she gave a nervous little huff before starting off after Bobby and Angel.

"Guys!"

Moments later, the trees fell away and the paved road diverted and narrowed, looping around and coming to the front of a large village. Kitty looked around quickly, alarmed, but it seemed that Angel was right.

The village was barren.

Hanging signs whistled and creaked in the wind, the sounds accompanied only by the quiet footfalls of their movements up the main street. It was lined with homes and shops, all varying in size and shape. The windows were intact, the doors mostly closed, but there was no light to be found and no voices to be heard.

Kitty peered into one of the windows and saw that it was a home, still stocked with furniture and personal effects, only missing its occupants. She frowned and moved away. The others looked as well, and she could see Maximoff peering up at a tall diamond-shaped window up ahead. He looked away, though, as if whatever he had thought he'd seen was gone.

What little daylight they'd been afforded that day was fading away under gathering clouds. Kitty shivered.

"I wonder where they all went," Angel said finally, her voice quiet. Kitty shook her head. "Maybe they left to get away from the fighting," she said softly, her eyes falling to a modest home with a leafy wreath on the door. Angel followed her gaze and moved to the door. It opened with ease.

"Don't - Don't go in there," Kitty told her, but Angel had already slipped inside. "I just want to take a peek!" she called from inside. "Come look. I don't think these people are coming back anytime soon."

Kitty gave an indignant growl and followed her friend inside the home.

It was a shock to her senses at first. The home was modest, but full to bursting of trinkets, well-worn furniture, and books. It reminded her of her grandparent's home back in New Jersey, with the old afghan thrown over the couch and a cup of coffee on the side table.

The lighting was dim as she moved about, her arms folded over her chest in an effort to stay warm. Her eyes drifted over some haphazardly scattered haircombs. If she had bothered to move them, she might have seen it, the something that would have tipped her off. But she didn't, because Angel's voice suddenly made her jump.

"Bing-o!"

Kitty whirled around to see Angel fishing around in a wardrobe. She pulled out an old-fashioned coat, dark brown with a furry collar, and slipped it on. "Mm," she said with a smile. "Look, there's more!"

Angel reached in and pulled out a long, slim ladies coat in solid black. She handed it to Kitty.

"We shouldn't take these. These people might come back."

Angel sighed. "Kitty, I know it's wrong to steal, but if we don't get some coats, we might freeze to death. Obviously, wherever these people went, they didn't need coats." She dug around in the wardrobe again and pulled out a floppy hat, which she promptly placed on her head and smiled.

_Well, we do need these.. _Kitty thought, and honestly, stealing a coat paled in comparison to some of the other things she'd done lately (_like murder, _her mind hissed), so she slipped it on and let herself revel in its warmth. Angel handed her a crimson scarf and a black wool hat that fit snugly on her head and curled at the tips just a bit. It had a ribbon around its base, dark as the rest. Kitty tied on the scarf and tucked it into the front of her jacket. Her eyes lowered to her fingers. She watched them curl into the silky fabric of the scarf with such detachment that it took her a moment to remember that she was the one moving them.

"What'd you guys find?" Bobby Drake asked suddenly, and Kitty whirled to face them as if she'd been caught red-handed. Maximoff stepped up behind Bobby, and his eyes immediately landed on Kitty. She looked away, but she could still feel his intense gaze on her. She lifted her head a moment later.

"Here, look. There's some men's coats, too." Angel handed a thick brown coat to Bobby and then a dark gray trench coat to Pietro. He accepted it without a word and slipped it over his shoulders. Kitty watched, her fingers still curling into the collar of her coat, as he looked around and then plucked a newsboy style hat off the top of coat rack. He slid it onto his head and it took Kitty's breath away.

He looked like he belonged there.

In this era, in this home, he didn't look an iota out of place. Even the way he stood, with his hands into the deep pockets of his coat and his dark glance moving across the room from under the low bill of his hat, he looked like a print from an aged set of black and white film.

The others set out, so Kitty followed.

* * *

Pietro had a growing number of suspicions, the top of them being that this village was not nearly so deserted as the others would believe.

He followed the others at a distance as they walked the main road. Up ahead, he could see other small roads in the village and the stone fountain where they convened at the village center.

His silver eyes moved around the buildings and alleyways warily.

Drake and Angel were up ahead, occasionally pausing to peer in windows or just be their usual nosy selves. He glanced at the fountain again, where it sat in a square of dark cobblestone. It was dry.

Kitty Pryde was walking just ahead of him, curiously silent. Watching her move ahead of him, her slim body finally covered in warm black wool, made him remember the peculiar way she was looking at him back in the house.

She was always thinking, and it annoyed Pietro to no end. She couldn't just let things be, the meddlesome wench that she was. She was always trying to help, always trying to be in everyone's business. She was probably watching him, even now, for signs of weakness, like an overprotective moth -

A scream.

Pietro's eyes jerked up to see Angel Salvadore scrambling to get away from something, but she ran blindly and hit the fountain. Her arms jumped over her head with a cry, hiding her face. Bobby Drake grabbed her and pulled her away, but Pietro wasn't paying attention to him. He was watching Kitty Pryde, who rushed up ahead of him, turned to face what Angel had seen - and then gave her own strangled cry.

She stumbled back and turned quickly, running straight into Pietro's chest.

He gave a little "oof" and held out both arms in a surrender, completely uncertain what to do with them. He looked up over the top of Kitty's head to see what had horrified them so much.

His heart sank.

A pile of corpses sat as tall as the buildings around them. Not soldiers, but young women and old men, grade school children and even pets. A toddler slumped prominently in the front, riddled with bullets like all the rest.

Some faces had been lost to recognition by gunfire, while others were frozen in an imitation of life, with mouths gaping and eyes open wide. The cold must have preserved them and hidden the smell, but the sight was enough to bring about a vile sort of sickness to Pietro's stomach.

Pietro was no stranger to violence. And yet, somehow, seeing how distraught the others were almost made him remember his first time seeing something like this, something so horrific and inhumane that the only thing more revolting than laying eyes on it was the idea of becoming desensitized to it as he had.

He cast a slow glance over Kitty's head to where Bobby Drake stood with Angel, tight in his arms as she sobbed. His own eyes were glassy when he met Pietro's gaze, but he simply clenched his jaw and stroked the girl's head.

Pietro slowly lowered his arms, which had been hovering uncertainly at his sides, to Kitty's forearms and curled his fingers there. She hadn't been touching him before, simply tucked into his shadow, but now her face came close enough to his chest that her tears rolled down his coat.

He moved his fingers over her forearm and breathed in deeply.

He felt her turn towards the bodies, her eyes determined to seek out the macabre sight once more to settle it into reality. He tightened his grip on her and turned her sharply to face him again.

"Don't look, Pryde. It won't do you any good," he murmured firmly, his head bent low towards hers. He watched as she nodded numbly, but the tears didn't stop. Pietro lifted his eyes over her head once more and then decided that was enough for both of them.

"Let's get moving." He maneuvered her in front of him, never letting her take a glance back.

She'd seen enough.

* * *

Author's Note: edited for general awkward wording.


	7. Pause

Author's Note: Hey guys! I tried getting this chapter out sooner, but I'm moving to a new house this weekend and it has been stressful. Also, I scrapped and re-wrote this chapter entirely.

Hooray for new followers and faithful reviewers! I know the last chapter was rough, but this one is much lighter. For anyone interested, Pietro's back story comes from the comics. 99% of what is said here is directly from those. I embellished only on the small details. Enjoy!

Song suggestion - "A Sky Full of Stars" - Coldplay.

xx

They shuffled through the village for another half hour.

Kitty Pryde paused at the edge of town and peered down the road. It moved on and away from the homes before it disappeared into the woods again, presumably next to the river they'd been following.

Thunder clapped overhead.

"We should stay in one of these houses tonight," said Bobby. Kitty frowned and glanced back at the road, but the fountain and its morbid company were long out of sight. Her eyes landed on Pietro Maximoff instead, who leaned against the wall of a modest home. Bobby crossed her path and tried the door. It opened with ease.

"There's no way I'm staying in this place any longer than I have to," Angel said immediately, arms folded. "Not with all those dead people just down the street."

"They're just bodies," Maximoff said quietly.

Angel tightened her lips and shook her head. "No way, no freaking way."

"Angel," Bobby reappeared and beckoned her inside. "Come on, I found something you'll like." He moved back inside just as lightning sliced through the sky. Kitty shivered and quickly followed them in to the home, though she glanced once more over her shoulder at the empty street.

Maximoff stepped in behind her and closed the door.

Inside, the home was dark and cluttered with belongings, like all the others. Bobby beckoned them over and opened a door to reveal a bathroom with a clawfoot tub and a sink. "See? We can stay here tonight and run a bath. There's probably no hot water, but we can fill some of these cooking pots from the well outside and heat the water in the fireplace." He pointed and turned to Angel and offered her a hopeful smile. "It's better than getting caught in that storm."

Kitty felt her friend heave a sigh next to her, though she did lean over and peer into the bathroom with a longing groan. "Okay," she agreed finally. "But only because I am in _such _need of a hot bath."

Kitty stood silently to the side, her arms folded over her chest and her gaze drawn to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Maximoff watching her, but he remained silent. Instead, he took off his hat, dropped it on a coffee table, and set to work with Bobby lugging water from the outside well to the home's small fireplace.

Twenty minutes later, the tub stood filled with steaming water, and Kitty suspected Angel no longer had any qualms about sleeping in the house. Just as the boys finished their work, rain started falling in heavy droves outside. Kitty lifted her eyes to the window.

At home, she had always loved the rain. She'd thought it peaceful and beautiful in the way that only nature could be. Now, it felt like the sky was unleashing all the anger, frustration, and exhaustion she had to keep bottled up inside.

"I feel bad," Angel said to her suddenly. "I mean, it takes so long to warm up the water and I'll be the first one getting to use it." She looped an arm with Kitty and pulled her friend closer to the bathroom, where both of the boys leaned on either side of the doorway.

Angel and Kitty stood between them and peered inside the bathroom.

"Do you just want to bathe with me so we can both have hot water?" Angel asked. Kitty hummed thoughtfully and looked over the tub. It was rather large.

"Sure," she said easily.

Maximoff and Bobby jerked their heads up in unison. Kitty felt the knots in her stomach loosen a little and she almost laughed at their stunned expressions. Never before had she seen those two boys exchange such mutual looks of understanding.

"Well, we're going to go bathe now. Don't do anything silly while we're gone." Kitty picked up two towels they'd located and stepped inside the bathroom with Angel. Her friend smiled and waved before shutting the door in their faces.

Moments later, she and Angel reclined in the steaming water. Kitty immediately closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She slipped her drawn up legs next to Angel's hip and tilted her head back.

"Did you see their faces?" Angel asked after a few minutes. Kitty laughed just a little and nodded. "Yeah, they looked pretty ridiculous."

Angel laughed in earnest, and Kitty joined her. They soon began laughing uncontrollably, but it wasn't long before Kitty felt her borderline hysterical laughter give way to tears. Her sobs were choked with tears and laughter, because this whole situation was just so terrifically unfortunate that she was having trouble knowing _what _to feel.

Angel must have felt the same, because she sniffled and laughed at the same time as she spoke.

"Today was _terrible_."

Kitty wiped at her damp face with the back of her hand and then placed it over Angel's hand on the edge of the tub.

"Yeah," she agreed quietly. The last of her chuckles faded away and left only her silent tears behind.

* * *

For someone who could walk through walls, Pietro thought, Kitty Pryde was not very stealthy.

He could hear her leave the bathroom, which joined to the one and only bedroom, and move all around the living room before finally coming to a stop in front of his chosen sleeping spot. His eyes were closed, but it didn't matter. When her hand hovered over him, he knew exactly where she was.

He cracked open an eye.

"What're you doing, Pryde?" he asked quietly.

She froze, her hand just over the pulsepoint of his wrist. In the dim light afforded by the living room windows, he could make out her figure hovering over him, her hair damp and hanging around her shoulders.

"I was just - checking on you," she whispered. "Both of you."

She glanced back at Bobby Drake, who was dead asleep on the couch with a blanket strewn over his lower body. Pietro, on the other hand, was fully reclined in a soft chair. He had his coat on top of him in lieu of a blanket. When Kitty straightened next to him, he pulled up a crooked elbow and set his hand behind his head.

"I'm fine," he murmured. "Did Salvadore drown?"

He watched her look back at the bedroom door with a small quirk of her lips. "Asleep. She barely made it on to the bed before she passed out." They kept their voices low to keep from waking the others, though he doubted it would matter. Drake looked comatose.

She turned to face him again, and when she did, he finally took a good look at what she was wearing.

"Nice pajamas," he whispered with a little smirk. He watched as she looked down at the ill-fitting men's pajamas she'd obviously found inside the home. They were green. And flannel. "Thanks," she said loftily, and then she adopted what he assumed was meant to be a mockery of his snarky tone. "I got them from your _dad's _bedroom."

Pietro raised a brow at her. "You mean Magneto?" he asked.

Kitty immediately scrunched up her face. "Ew, no. Nevermind."

Pietro chuckled a little. "Yeah, that's what I thought," he said quietly. He expected her to leave then, and she even turned back toward her door, but then she hesitated. For a moment, she stood silent.

"I figured you'd take the bed," she said, looking away at the wall.

Pietro drummed his fingers on his stomach. "Why? Because I'm an asshole?"

"Because you're annoying," she clarified. He nodded. "That's true," he agreed. He paused a moment before continuing, unsure of how honest he cared to be.

"I don't sleep in a bed at home, so no reason for me to sleep in one here," he said finally. Kitty Pryde's brows furrowed curiously. "Really? You don't sleep in a bed?"

He shrugged. "I don't sleep much at all."

Now her attention had turned fully to him again, and to his great surprise, she moved to the arm of his chair and perched herself on it, turning her knees towards him and putting her tiny bare feet next to his hip on the seat cushion. He peered at her, but remained perfectly still, even when she put her chin in her hands and propped herself up on her knees right next to him.

"So does your mind just - go full speed, 24/7?" she asked. Pietro blinked. Her expression was so open and earnest. He had never seen someone so easy to read. Hell, she wasn't an open book. She was an open _picture _book.

His simple answer was the result of being genuinely startled, though he kept his facial expression blank.

"Yes."

His silver eyes flickered over her. There it was - that little tilt of the head that meant she was zeroed in on something, more focused than he could ever hope to be on a single subject.

"Is that what makes it difficult for you to sleep?"

Pietro felt his body tighten anxiously. He wasn't nervous, per se, but he had the acutely unfamiliar impression that he was not in control of the conversation.

"I suppose," he answered finally, his voice low.

Kitty tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Is that why you learned German?" she asked. "Because you were trying to keep busy?" Pietro curled his fingers behind his hair, brushing into his hair.

"No," he answered honestly.

He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Curiosity danced behind her expression, but she took her time formulating carefully considered questions, as if she knew Pietro might only answer a few.

"Where did you live before Bayville?"

This time, Pietro did not answer immediately. As she had, he took his time mulling over his responses. The most appropriate answer would be to tell her that it was none of her god damn business. Others included lying, making up fantastical stories just to watch her believe them and then laugh about it later. However, when he looked back up to her and saw her sitting there, in such an intimate and familiar pose, he found that he didn't wish to lie to her. So he didn't.

"Lots of places," he told her softly. When she remained silent, he looked away, up to the ceiling, and continued. "Southern Italy, when I was very young. Bulgaria. France. Germany. Greece." He swept a hand. "Most of Europe, at some point or the other."

He watched with fascination as her face shifted into one of the most illuminated, vibrant expressions he'd ever seen on her.

"That's amazing. And so you speak.."

"All of them," he admitted. "Some better than others."

Kitty curled her fingers at her chin. "And English, too?"

Pietro shook his head. "I didn't learn English until I was thirteen."

Kitty nudged him with her foot. "No way. You don't have an accent at all. How can you have only learned English four years ago?" Pietro rolled his eyes. "What part of _I learn shit quickly _do you people not understand?" He shifted in his reclined position. "If I have a good textbook in front of me, I can usually learn a language in six, seven minutes tops."

He watched with too keen an interest as her lips parted in surprise.

"_Really?_" she squeaked, before immediately lowering her voice again. Pietro's acute gaze took in all of her genuine eagerness. She was so strange.

Certainly, his abilities were extraordinary, but he had never been in a situation to explain them so frankly to someone. To see her so interested, when she herself was capable of such unusual things, made him feel oddly .. proud.

Not that Pietro Maximoff was a stranger to pride. However, there was a powerful difference between the pride of arrogance, which only ran so deep, and a true, earnest appreciation for one's own self.

This observation made him uncomfortable, so he spoke in a distracted fashion.

"What about you, Pryde? Why did you learn German?"

He watched her as she waved a hand half-heartedly. "Oh, I just like learning languages. German is something I learned mostly from Kurt, but I learned a lot from books, too. I've also learned Russian, Spanish, and Japanese. Oh! And American Sign Language." She signed her name in a quick succession of letters and smiled. Pietro couldn't resist a crooked grin.

"You're a nerd," he whispered.

Kitty grimaced at him, but she didn't seem all that offended. "I just like learning things. Language, in particular, has always interested me."

"Why?" he asked, now genuinely curious.

He watched her drop her gaze and lower her hands to her knees. "I don't know," she said softly, smiling at her fingertips. "I suppose because - well. It's just - every thought we have, every memory we make, it's all.. shaped by our understanding of language. It's the only thing that can never be fully explained, because you'll always be limited by the very thing you're trying to define."

Pietro fell silent.

When she looked up and met his gaze, he felt his throat tighten. "You know several languages, so you know what I mean when I say there are certain things about language that transcends meaning. Some words, some expressions, just _exist _in their own poignant, unexplainable way. Words that don't change or translate, because they're more than a definition. They're a feeling." She touched a hand to her chest.

Under his coat, Pietro's fingers curled tightly at his stomach.

He watched her glance up and rake her eyes over his face. Then she stood away from the recliner and straightened her ridiculous pajamas.

"I should get some sleep."

Words failed him for the first time in years. He fluttered the fingers behind his head in a wave and then watched as she turned away from him and crossed the dimly lit living room. Her head tilted like she might glance back at him, but then she didn't. Instead, she disappeared through the closed bedroom door.

* * *

They left the house the next morning, after the boys had a chance to bathe. Unlike Kitty and Angel, they opted to do so alone.

* * *

It was night again.

It had been a rough walk since they'd left the village, but Kitty Pryde's exhausted body fought rest for nearly two hours before she finally gave up. While everyone else slept in the protective dome of ice, she sat in front of the small campfire and listened to the soft sounds of the forest night.

Her eyes remained unfocused as she turned something small and silver in her fingertips.

"Guarding the fire, Pryde?"

Kitty blinked out of her trance and looked up. Maximoff stepped out of the small opening in the hut and stood next to the fire, his hands in his pockets.

Kitty shook her head and looked back at the flames. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted. Maximoff nodded slowly. She felt his eyes move over her and land on her busied hands.

"What is that?"

Kitty looked down at the silver metal in her fingertips. Maximoff moved to the other side of the fire, directly across from her, and took a seat on a log.

"It's a locket," Kitty told him quietly. "I found it in the pocket of my coat."

Her thumb moved over the tiny hinges of the necklace and it popped up, revealing a small, aged photo of a young couple she'd never recognize. Maximoff watched her from his spot, his eyes lifting just a bit to see the photo. He looked back at her face. Kitty clicked the locket closed.

"They must have lived in that village," she whispered, her eyes unfocused again.

Maximoff moved his elbows to his knees and laced his fingers, his gaze following hers to the fire. For nearly half an hour, they sat in complete silence. Kitty did not try to think of anything to say, and she did not believe that Maximoff did either. Instead, they simply sat in one another's contemplative silence.

"Does any of this make you understand Magneto?"

Kitty looked up in surprise. Pietro Maximoff was still learned forward, his intense stare illuminated by the sparks dancing up from the fire. She looked away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't act stupid, Pryde." His voice was low and firm. "You know exactly what I mean."

Kitty sighed quietly and touched her face with her free hand. "This is - this is not the same, Maximoff."

"Bullshit."

Kitty closed her eyes. "Look, I - I feel this - this horror and this hurt for what happened during these times, but things - things are different now. I mean, not _now_, but from where we come from."

Maximoff shook his head, letting out a soft snort of disbelief.

"Wake up, Pryde," he muttered. "You may think it doesn't get much worse than this," he gestured. "but it does. And it will."

Kitty frowned. "You don't know that."

"Oh, but I do." Maximoff tightened his clasped fingers. Kitty gave a soft growl of frustration. "What about you, Maximoff? I mean," she heaved a sigh and looked at him over the fire. Her tone softened. "You have such amazing capabilities. You could revolutionize the fields of science, of medicine, of whatever you wanted." She waved a hand emphatically. "You could conduct _decades _of research in a matter of hours without even breaking a sweat."

She frowned at him. "You could _help _people."

"I do help people," Maximoff said lowly, his fingers curled tightly in front of him. Kitty steeled her gaze to meet his increasingly heated glare.

"Mutants. You help mutants." Kitty shook her head. "We're not the rulers of this world, Maximoff. We're just a part of it, like everyone else."

"Yeah, well, tell that to them," he snapped suddenly. "As soon as they come looking for us in our beds to put us in prisons, take people's kids and kill them just for being what they are!" Kitty's eyes widened at his burst of passion.

"Not everyone is like that - Maximoff!"

Kitty stood suddenly and followed as he stood suddenly and stomped back towards the ice dome. Her eyes clouded with exhausted tears, but she pushed them back.

"I just - I just don't _understand_," she admitted, her tone tinged with desperation. Maximoff gave her a hard look and shook his head.

"No," he agreed. "You don't."

Pietro paused at the entrance to the dome. "You may as well keep that locket," he told her without looking her way. Kitty glanced down at the necklace and opened it again. Stranger's faces peered up at her.

"Why?" she asked, perplexed.

"Because you may be the only person left to remember them," said Pietro, before he ducked into the hut and disappeared.

* * *

Once, a few days after leaving the village, the four of them watched a group of soldiers from the hidden safety of a tree-covered hill.

"Those don't look like the Nazi soldiers," whispered Angel. Kitty squinted through the thorny underbrush that camouflaged them. Down below, several men paused to smoke cigarettes and readjust their weapons.

"They're not," Kitty whispered back from where she crouched. "They're Soviets."

Bobby pushed back a few leaves and peered closer. "Russians?" he asked. "That's good, then. They were on our side during the war, right?"

Kitty and Pietro exchanged mutual glances.

"Technically, yes.." Kitty whispered slowly, but Pietro cut her off. "Let's just say.. Russia is on _Russia's _side, no matter what war you're talking about," he said flatly. "Avoid them."

They absconded from the area and left the Soviet soldiers behind.

* * *

"Hey, look what I found!"

Angel Salvadore's discovery of a spotty deck of playing cards in her military pack led to campfire discussion of card games, which led an argument over which games were best, which led to Pietro Maximoff standing, completely and utterly shocked, when he discovered that his traveling companions had never experienced one of the greatest joys in life.

Gambling.

"_None _of you?" he repeated, eyebrow raised. "None of you idiots know how to play poker?"

Three shakes of the head. Pietro inhaled deeply and pushed up his sweater sleeves. "Everyone sit down and shut up. I'm about to make card sharks out of you all."

Which was how they ended up around the campfire, each holding a deck of cards and eyeing each other with shifty glances. Except that Angel still had no idea what to do, even half an hour into the game, so she kept pausing and leaning over to Bobby Drake.

"I don't know what I have! Bobby, look at my cards."

"Angel, I'm not supposed to see your cards!"

"I need help!"

Kitty giggled behind her deck and pressed them to her face for a moment to hide her laughter. Across from her, Pietro Maximoff reclined on one elbow and smirked.

"Okay, okay," Bobby said, laughing. He peered at Angel's deck and then whispered to her. "Oh," Angel said in delight, and then her face fell as Bobby's whispers continued. "Oh. Well, shit. I fold!" She put down her deck and laughed.

Pietro rolled his eyes. Bobby leaned forward and put down a card, drawing another from the pile. Pietro did the same and studied his cards carefully with thoughtful eyes. When it was Kitty's turn, she made quite the show of looking around at her opponents. Then she carefully drew a card from the deck and bit her lip, trying to contain her huge grin.

Across the fire, she heard snickering, and when she looked up, her grin only grew. "What?" she asked Pietro, who laughed openly. His posture was more relaxed than she had ever seen on him.

"You have a _terrible _poker face," Pietro told her, his body shaking with laughter. Bobby Drake laughed too and nodded. "It's true," he told her.

"Leave me alone!" Kitty exclaimed. She sucked in a deep breath and tried to compose her face, but it was no use. When it came time to lay down their cards, the deck she had been so proud of was no match for Bobby's full house.

"What the _hell?" _Pietro cried, barely audible over Bobby's whoop of joy as he gathered all of his "chips" in his arms. "Yes! I am the victor!" He gave a triumphant fist pump into the air before he settled down and then glanced at his earnings.

"Now, if only I knew what to do with all these rocks..."

Kitty let her head fall back and she laughed, louder than she had in weeks, and she reveled in the laughter that joined her.


	8. Pendulum

Author's Note: Hey guys! I've finally finished moving (thank god), so I plan to start getting these chapters out fast and furious. Thank you for your reviews!

Froggygrl - Thank you for reviewing! It is a HUGE compliment to me that you feel connected to these characters. I don't believe there will be any lemon in this fic (I write them all the time, but I don't know how it would fit in to this particular story), but I promise plenty of interaction will be to come.

Silver - Good to see you again! Thank you for the review. I know that a lot of the things in the story are disturbing, but I wanted to include them because I have found that, as people who go about our daily lives in relative peace, it is difficult to imagine just how shocking it is to live through a real war. I want the readers to understand the trauma that the characters are experiencing, and to do that, I feel like I must include visuals and scenarios that I know were, in fact, a real part of World War II. I am trying to balance them with lighter moments, though. (:

TraitorousFreshman15 - You are such a faithful reviewer! I love it. And I'm glad you enjoyed the honest chat and poker scenes. Those were both a lot of fun to write. I basically spend all day at work daydreaming about this fic, so I have lots of time to think up scenes I find interesting.

**Important**: I have edited the (campfire) chat scene in the last chapter to add more depth that will be important much later on in the story. I would love for any readers to go back and re-read it in order to understand more about the characters later on.

Thanks!

* * *

The further they went upriver, the more populated the areas became.

Finally, Kitty had been forced to stop them and re-evaluate their traveling strategy. "Look, we'll just loop around this city," she said, tracing along the route on the map with her fingertip. "Then we'll reconnect with the river right here and continue north."

"How do you even know where we are? I haven't seen a sign in days," Bobby asked, shifting his heavy pack to the ground. Kitty shifted the map. "We're close, that's all we need to know."

"What kind of terrain is that?" asked Pietro. Kitty glanced up and shook her head. "I honestly have no idea. I'm guessing it's hills and forest, but I can't be sure." Maximoff looked uncertain, but they followed Kitty's lead and left the increasingly dangerous river.

Unfortunately, that also meant their main source off food was unceremoniously cut off. For two days, they lived off what they had stored away, but then were forced to hunt what little they could and live off fruits and berries.

The soles of Kitty's shoes were almost worn through. She could feel her socks scraping on the gravel.

Every night, Kitty set up the map and studied it carefully, looking for small roads and passages they might have missed. They had to keep away from big cities, or they'd be singled out as foreigners. But something told her that they weren't going to last long out here with no food and little water.

Maximoff would never admit it, but he still wasn't well. She could see him at night, often caught in the throes between sleep and awareness, looking pained and exhausted. As he had so tactfully pointed out some weeks ago when their endeavor had first started, everyone needed to eat.

However, it was different with him.

His body was fighting against him at every turn, and every time he used his powers, even for a moment, it weakened him. Kitty had tried to talk to him about it, but he had simply shrugged her off and told her to stop mothering him.

So it was that five days after they left the river, the group of them shuffled along a darkly shaded gravel road. Kitty had it all planned out in her head, her eyes strained over the precious map. They would continue on this road around the city of Radom and hook back up with the Vistula River just slightly northwest of their current position.

God, she was exhausted. And hungry. What she would give for one of those gross cafeteria lunches right now...

"What the _hell_?"

Angel's exclamation made her look up. Kitty dropped her hands, her lips parted in shock.

The road they had followed for the last two days had come to an abrupt end in a pile of forest refuse and street debris.

"It must have been blown up to block supply lines or something," Kitty said in disbelief, her heart thudding with despair. There were no other roads splitting from this one. They would have to backtrack over fifteen miles all the way to the river to get back to a point of reference.

Kitty's tired eyes filled with tears.

Ahead of her, Angel Salvadore stomped her foot. "God damn it!" she yelled, throwing down her pack. Bobby Drake sat heavily on the side of the road and inhaled deeply into dirty hands.

"Oh, calm the fuck down," Maximoff snapped from his spot off to the side. He dropped his pack on the ground as well. Angel turned suddenly on Maximoff.

"You calm the fuck down, Maximoff! God damn it, I am so fucking tired of being in this place!" Angel kicked her pack. "I am so tired of being hungry, so tired of being exhausted, so tired of walking all the fucking time!"

"Then kill yourself and save us all the trouble of having to hear your bitching," Maximoff snarled. Kitty grimaced.

"Guys, stop it!"

"Well, then tell your friend to shut her fucking mouth!" Maximoff shouted. Kitty gave a frustrated cry. "You know, Maximoff, you could at least be a little damn grateful!"

"_Grateful_?" repeated Maximoff incredulously. "The hell are you talking about?"

Kitty huffed. "We saved your life and all you do is talk down to us!"

Pietro Maximoff was suddenly right in front of her. Kitty stepped back in alarm. She had not seen his glare so hard and hateful since all this craziness had started.

"You saved my life for the exact same reason I saved yours, Pryde. Because we need each other to get the FUCK out of this place. So you can shut your god damn holier than thou bitch mouth and save it for someone who actually believes it!"

Kitty stared at him, her lips parted and hands shaking at her sides.

"Why are you even trying to talk to him, Kitty?" Angel said suddenly from just a few feet away. "You know he can't form a single coherent thought by himself."

Kitty's shaken mind registered a slow-building sense of terror when she saw Pietro's eyes close for just a moment and then re-open as narrowed slits in Angel's direction.

"Excuse me?" he murmured, his voice barely more than a low growl.

Angel folded her arms over her chest and raised both eyebrows, looking haggard and on her wit's end. "Oh, do I need to repeat myself, Maximoff? I said you can't fucking think for yourself. I said you're fucking worthless as a person and if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be in this fucking mess. I said that you're a no-good, lying, cheating, self-serving piece of shit who doesn't know how to do anything except repeat the same hateful bullshit over and over like a brain-damaged parrot, all the while _hiding _behind his _big bad daddy_."

Kitty's eyes slowly moved from Angel back to Maximoff, but he was only there for a moment. Angel didn't even have time to scream before Maximoff slammed a hand against her throat and pinned her to the thick trunk of a tree some fifty feet away. She gave a garbled gasp and clawed at his hand.

"Maximoff!" Kitty shouted in alarm, prompting Bobby, who was by in a half-asleep state of exhaustion, to rise as well.

To Kitty's horror, Maximoff reached back with the hand that was closed around Angel's throat and rammed her into the tree again. Her strangled gasps echoed in Kitty's head like the slamming of a car door on an empty street.

"NO! MAXIMOFF, STOP!" Kitty and Bobby ran at him, but when he saw them over his shoulder, Maximoff reached up with one hand and began to climb the tree, Angel's throat in hand. She trashed and kicked her legs. Each time Maximoff reached up to pull himself up, he crushed her against the tree again like a climbing stake.

"MAXIMOFF, PLEASE!" Kitty shouted desperately as she and Bobby clambered up the tree after them. Maximoff was almost at the top now, though, so much faster even in his weakened state. He was on the highest branch in seconds, far above them, with Angel in his grasp. He moved her away from the trunk of the tree and dangled her over the edge of the limb.

"Do you think you could fly if you were unconscious?" he asked Angel mockingly, his voice just loud enough for Kitty and Bobby to hear. Angel squirmed in his gasp and clawed at his arm, but it was no use. He was too strong for her. She began coughing up blood.

Kitty and Bobby both shouted from below, but the sounds were merely background noise to whatever Maximoff was saying to Angel up above them. Bobby kept trying to use his powers to climb up and reach them, but he was too weak.

Suddenly, Maximoff turned and threw Angel away, down at Kitty and Bobby.

"BOBBY!" Kitty screamed shrilly. Bobby cursed and immediately jumped off his branch straight for the ground. He hit hard on his feet just before Angel's unconscious body slammed into his waiting arms. They both rolled on the ground from the impact, but Angel was spared most of it.

Kitty dropped down beside him and moved over Angel, her hands frantically working over her friend's body.

"She's alive, she's alive," Kitty repeated, before she took a deep breath and began to administer CPR. Bobby crouched next to her, his blue eyes worried. Kitty pumped on Angel's chest and blew into her mouth again. Her lips were dotted with blood.

"Come on, Angel!" Kitty cried, breathing into her mouth again. She moved to pump on the girl's chest once more, but Angel suddenly lurched and drew in a deep, rattling breath. Kitty covered her face for a moment, her body overwhelmed with relief.

"Angel, oh hell.."

She and Bobby helped her sit up and slowly regain control of her breathing. Angel's dark eyes met hers and filled with tears, but she said nothing, merely rubbed at her neck.

A soft thud behind them, and they all looked up to see Pietro Maximoff calmly rising from where he'd dropped out of the tree.

Bobby jumped up immediately and an ice pick formed in his hand.

"You stupid son of a bitch - "

"Do it, Drake. Do something for once in your pathetic life," Maximoff snarled.

"STOP!" Kitty screamed, and the two boys suddenly halted in their advances. Her fingers clenched on the ruined fabric of her jeans. Her eyes clenched shut as she teetered from her place on the ground.

"Just - Just stop already! God .. God _DAMNIT_, haven't we been through enough?" she cried out, doubling over on bent knees. She fought not to give in to her sobs. She had to be strong. She had to get through this, there was a _reason _for everything, she was going to make this, damn it! There was a way to pull through and make good of this, there had to be!

Her chest burned.

* * *

"He can't stay with us," Bobby Drake said firmly.

Pietro stood far enough away that the campfire's light didn't touch him, but he could still hear their conversation.

"We don't have a choice, Bobby," he heard Kitty Pryde say. She sounded as exhausted as he felt. "He was right. We do need him if we ever want to get back to our time."

Between them sat Angel Salvadore, he knew, but she had been relatively silent for the past hour. If Pietro had gotten his way, she'd be silent for the rest of time.

"I don't care!" Drake snapped. "I don't want him around. He's a sorry bastard, and I - Angel! Where are you going?"

Salvadore's footsteps left the area of the campfire. Moments later, she stood in front of Pietro, who sat against the base of a tree in nearly complete darkness.

He looked up at her, his expression disinterested, and said nothing.

"Hey," said Salvadore. Her voice still sounded scratchy. Pietro raised a brow silently. She looked uncomfortable. _Good_, he thought. Only by his good grace was she feeling anything at all.

"Look, I just wanted you to know," she said, breathing in deeply. "I just wanted you to know that I realize what I said to set you off. And even though I think it was definitely an overreaction to try and _kill _me.. I think I get it, to a certain extent."

Pietro's lips tightened. He turned his face from hers and focused on his upraised knees.

Salvadore continued. "I mean, if someone had come to me, at the worst point in a horrible day, and compared me to that junkie bitch that gave birth to me, I'd get pissed off too." Her brows furrowed. "Because if someone ever asked me about my mother, I wouldn't see her face in my mind. I would see an old white lady named Mary Shelton."

She peered down at him.

"Is it that way for you, too?"

Pietro's chest tightened with the effort it took to keep away sudden images that flashed to his mind. Some of them were very old. Others were as recent as an hour ago.

_"Magneto is NOT my father," Pietro hissed into Angel's ear at the top of the tree. Her terrified, strangled gasps threatened to overlap his quiet growl. _

_"My father is dead." _

_He let her go._

"It isn't any business of yours," Pietro said flatly. He watched as Angel nodded slowly. "Okay, well.. I just wanted you to know. Even though I think you're a prick and I don't appreciate that you tried to seriously fucking kill me... " She lifted her dark eyes to his. "I know that what I said was somehow _worse _than what I meant. Not in a way I can really understand, because I don't know what you've been through. But I've got a pretty good idea."

Finally, she turned and walked away. Pietro slumped against the tree, glad to be left alone once more. Her feelings were unimportant, but they served their purpose. Her words meant that she would convince the others to let him continue to travel with them.

Unfortunately, he was beginning to question whether or not it was even worth it.

* * *

They made the return trip and found a different route around the city. For one evening, they had enough food and water to give them some strength. Once they left the river, the only comfort they'd known in weeks was gone.

* * *

"Should we be coming back to the river already?"

Bobby Drake curled his fingers around the strap of his pack. Kitty consulted her map with a slight frown. "No," she admitted, her eyes rising to the setting sun. "I don't think so, anyway. I think I've lost my bearings."

She felt the unmistakable movements of Pietro Maximoff behind her, but when he paused to look over her shoulder at the map, she snapped it shut and walked away. She heard him huff behind her.

_That sorry bastard_, Kitty thought. Just three days ago, he had nearly choked Angel to death and then tossed her away like trash. Even though Angel had (somewhat reluctantly) vouched for him, saying that she had started the argument, Kitty still had trouble letting herself fall back into the tentative state of familiarity that had formed between them.

"We'll just have to keep following the river until we come across an area that I can pinpoint on the map," she said with a sigh. She scratched at her ponytail. God, she had never felt so disgusting in her life. They had bathed to the best of their abilities in a spring just yesterday, but by now it was so cold that doing so again would be tempting fate. They could easily freeze to death just trying to get clean.

Kitty tugged on her coat, which was now home to a generous portion of dirt and grime, before continuing on.

Normally, they stopped walking as the sun began to drop behind the horizon, but this time they pressed on. By the time the sky had given way to darkness, Angel had spotted the telltale signs of civilization.

Lights. Chimney smoke. Wheel tracks.

"Wow, that place looks big. I wonder what it is," Angel said, peering down the slope of hills that tumbled away from the forest's edge. The river continued on, oblivious to the change in landscape, and went directly through the center of the town.

"The only way we can find out is to go there and look," Kitty said. "But we should wait until morning."

"Just let me go," Pietro said suddenly from behind her. Kitty glanced up and quickly turned away. She focused on her tightly gripped map. "We can all go," she argued without looking up. Beside her, Pietro huffed again.

"Pryde, I can go and figure out where we are faster than anyone else here."

"Not in your state, you can't. You'll collapse," Kitty said matter of factly. She looked up and met his gaze solely because she knew how disgruntled his expression would be, and that gave her an insane amount of satisfaction.

"I'm _fine, _Pryde. How many fucking times do I have to say it?"

"Say it as many times as you like, Maximoff." Kitty folded up the map and gave him her most pretentious stare. "It doesn't make it true." She stepped around him and walked away, her eyes flickering towards the distant city lights once more before she settled on her sleeping spot.

When Pietro settled down on his sleeping bag with a pained wince, looking like a man fighting the urge to collapse, Kitty considered, for the first time in days, that her comments were about more than antagonizing him.

She was concerned.

* * *

Pietro Maximoff felt like hell.

His body hated him, that much was certain, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Rest was something he'd never gotten much of back at home, but in Bayville, he'd never been so injured from a run that he'd needed it all that much. And food. God, what he wouldn't give for a fucking burger right now. Or ten. Hell, even Toad's cooking would be acceptable at this point.

Pietro briefly wondered if he was losing his mind.

He glanced at Kitty Pryde, who was trying to tame her hair back into a ponytail, her arms stretched overhead. He could see, on the occasion when she took off her coat, where the straps of her pack were wearing into her pale shoulders. She was bruised and cut up all over. They all were, to be honest, but it seemed so much more apparent on Kitty. Maybe because she was so small and fragile looking, Pietro thought.

They moved away from the forest and followed the river through the open fields that surrounded the city. Trucks were coming in and out of the main roads, he saw, but it was hard to tell which ones were military.

The four of them tucked into the sides of the hills and crept as close to the city walls as possible.

Pietro glanced all around, uncertain how he felt about finding such a big town. A stone wall wrapped around the area, though it was fallen and crumbling at a few places. Ahead of him, Kitty Pryde led them through one of the walls to the south so they could avoid the checkpoints.

Pietro tugged down on his hat to cover his face and slid his hands into his pockets. Their coats and hats helped them to blend in, but it wouldn't be enough if an officer stopped them and began asking questions.

When they appeared on the other side of the stone wall, they found themselves in alleyway between two tall brick buildings. Up ahead, a sliver of street was visible. Citizens and soldiers alike moved up and down sidewalks in heavy droves. Pietro stepped forward, ahead of the others, and peered out. His eyes fell on Nazi soldiers towards the front of a city square, toting guns and walking back and forth in carefully practiced forms. Above him, state buildings were tall and austere, gray brick piled high over busy streets.

His fingers curled tensely in his pocket. Kitty Pryde appeared beside him, her head low to avoid showing her face. She peered around Pietro and turned her head discretely to read a sign.

"Dąbrowski Square," she read aloud. "Why does that sound familiar?"

Angel and Bobby stood behind them, still hidden in the shadows of the alley. Pietro took another step out and fully immersed himself in the busy foot traffic of the sidewalk. His eyes moved up and over the heads of others before he finally found what he was looking for. His insides tightened.

"Maximoff?" Kitty asked at his side. She gave a startled gasp when Pietro suddenly gripped her elbow and pulled her away from the street. He yanked her into the shadows and tugged her close, his gaze turning to hers.

"God damnit, Pryde. We're in _Warsaw." _

Not for the first time, Pietro was glad to see Kitty Pryde grasp the gravity of the situation in mere moments. Her brown eyes widened with terror. "Oh my god," she murmured, looking to Bobby and Angel who hovered nearby. "What?" Angel asked, confused. "What's so bad about War - "

"_REBELLIEREN_!"

An explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet and shook the buildings around them. Angel shrieked. "Shit! What's happening?"

Pietro cursed and pushed Kitty back towards the ally before running to the street. It was a clusterfuck of chaos. Smoke billowed out from the two tallest buildings down the street, and suddenly, the square the was alight with gunfire and screams. Polish resistance sprang from the sewer grates in the streets and threw bombs, rocking the street with shrapnel and fire.

Somewhere down the opposite way, the front of a building shattered with the force of another explosion. People shouted and shoved, trying to get away from towering walls of crumbling brick and stone. Soldiers met in the streets in frantic brawls, fighting hand to hand when the guns ran dry, all trying to shout and be heard over the clamor of the streets.

"What the hell is going on?" Angel shouted. "KITTY!"

Pietro pressed himself against the wall of an apartment building as the world shook around them. Stone clattered to the alley wall floor in huge, dangerous chunks.

"I - I don't know!" Kitty shouted frantically. "I - uh, Oh - The Warsaw Uprising!"

"_What?" _Drake shouted from where he was crouched. Pietro scowled. "Shut the fuck up, Drake, no one has time to tutor you two idiots in history!" Windows burst above them and rained glass over their heads. Pietro ducked. He started to turn back the way they'd come, but the sound of rolling tanks just behind the wall deterred him.

"All you need to know is that shit is about to get really, really bad!" Pietro snatched Drake's sleeve and shoved him at the street. "Now run!"

Angel dove for the street behind Drake and Kitty followed. Pietro came out of the alley way last and nearly ran into Pryde, who had stalled at the edge of the sidewalk.

The street was littered with bodies. At this point, it was nothing more than a runway for a hail of bullets.

"Pryde, go!" Pietro shouted, grabbing her upper arm and dragging her over the fallen soldiers and civilians. She shouted at him, something he couldn't hear, but she moved as quickly as she could with him over the macabre debris.

They crossed the street in moments, skidding to a stop once when a group of soldiers ran past them and opened fire on someone trying to flee a butcher's shop.

Pietro stopped in the street and looked down one way and then another. For a moment, the chaotic soundtrack of the war shifted into a dull, faraway buzz. His vision slowed as he watched the civilians scrambling to escape the hellfire, the soldiers shouting into their radios as they crouched behind their crudely made barriers, and the great, gaping holes in the street where grenades had been launched.

Even the sewer lids rattled on the pavement under the stress of the explosions.

Far away, he could see tanks rolling in from the Nazi soldiers, who fought and called for order to be restored to its previous stronghold.

"PIETRO!"

He snapped out of his daze and his eyes immediately fell on Kitty Pryde, who was standing on a street corner. "Come on!" she shouted to him. She beckoned to him, her hand extended.

He ran to her without a second thought and gripped her hand.

They turned and rounded the corner together, but no sooner had they come to the next street than a grenade landed at their feet. Pietro's silver eyes widened. Without thinking, he snatched Pryde around her middle and ran them off the sidewalk and against a brick wall.

He curled both arms around her and tucked his head into her shoulder just as the explosion sounded behind him. The force it shoved the both against the wall and he heard Kitty let out a startled cry beneath him.

For a moment, he felt a flood of relief.

Then he realized the girl curled between him and the wall was covered in blood. Kitty's brown eyes lifted to his and she pulled her hands away from his chest. They were stained with crimson.

That was when the pain hit him. A thousand, million times it hit him. He sank to his knees in front of Kitty and realized that every breath he drew felt like being stabbed by a hundred blades. When he touched his torso and drew away blood soaked hands, he knew he'd been hit by the shrapnel.

"No!" Kitty exclaimed, dropping in front of him and working her hands frantically over his front. Pietro couldn't concentrate on what was going on around him anymore. Any part of his body that wasn't in blinding pain was inconsequential at that moment. He sputtered and tried to keep upright.

Chaos continued around them.

"Kitty!" called Bobby Drake, but the noises were beginning to fade away. Pietro could feel his senses dulling and the agony was giving way to increasing numbness. The last thing he remembered seeing was Kitty Pryde's face, taut with worry and streaked with tears, hovering in front of his.

Nothingness.

* * *

Kitty would never be able to remember how, but they all make it out of the city.

Bobby and Kitty carried Pietro away from the crumbling stone walls of the city of Warsaw and out to the rolling hills once more. The sun was high in the sky, but the wind was blistering cold, and everything around them seemed so ill-fitting for Kitty's desperate and nearly hysterical anxiety.

They found refuge in the cellar of an abandoned windmill, as far away from the city as they could drag Pietro's unconscious body.

"Someone find me some light," Kitty ordered, crouching down next to Pietro's body. _This is too much, this is too much, _she told herself, her insides bubbling with fear. Outwardly, she took a deep breath and forced herself to stay calm. She ripped off her blood soaked coat and disposed of Pietro's as well.

"Angel, get me some water," she said. "And Bobby, search the packs and see if you can find any kind of sewing kit. Get all the bandages and antiseptic we have, too." The others nodded and dispersed quickly.

Kitty reached down to the hem of Pietro's shirt and pushed it up. She fought not to look away at the sight.

His body was riddled with shrapnel, cutting his skin up in wounds of varying size and degree. They all bled freely and coated Kitty's hands all the way up to her elbows. The dim light afforded by their lantern probably disguised the worst of it, but it didn't matter. Kitty knew it was bad.

She pushed her hands around the wounds to feel where the shrapnel sat in the skin.

"Trying.. to feel me up, Pryde?"

Her eyes snapped up at Pietro's words. Something in her chest burst with happiness at seeing his eyes opened, though he closed them for a moment to grimace in pain.

"Maximoff! Oh, just - just shut up and lay back. I need you to stop talking while I figure this out," she said, leaning over him and pulling his shirt the rest of the way off. She breathed in shakily and forced herself not to cry.

"That bad?" Maximoff asked weakly, his head pushed back and his eyes on the darkness that was the ceiling. Kitty swallowed and shook her head, wrapping a piece of thick cloth around her knuckles. "Oh, no. I've seen you look way worse," she joked shakily, cringing when Maximoff jumped at her touch.

"Relax, Pryde.." he murmured, turning his head to look at her. Kitty glanced at his face before she shook her head. "I said stop talking," she told him firmly, finding some of her voice again. "I need you to turn on your side, okay? I think your back got the worst of it."

With a great grunt of effort, Pietro managed to roll on to his side. Kitty winced and ran a hand down her face. Yes, his back had definitely gotten the worst of it. He'd gotten them out of the kill zone for the grenade, but its devastating effects had taken their toll on him.

Kitty hadn't received a scratch.

Her gaze moved up to him again, but his eyes were turned away from where she sat.

"I'm going to have to pull out the shrapnel, Maximoff," she told him. "If I use my powers, it won't hurt you and hopefully I can get them all out before they do any permanent damage."

At that moment, Angel returned with the water and Bobby dropped to her side. "Here's the bandages, but we don't have a sewing kit. Why did you need it?"

Kitty sighed and wiped at her face again, streaking it with sweat and dirt. "Some of these wounds are going to need to be closed up. I was hoping to sew them."

She saw Pietro shift a little so that he could see her.

"What're you going to do then?" Angel asked, grimacing at Pietro's shredded skin. Kitty sucked in another deep breath. "I'll have to cauterize them."

"_What?" _Pietro shrieked from his spot on the floor. "Who the hell taught you medicine, _Gregor Clegane_?"

Three blank stares made Pietro rolled his eyes. "Oh my god, read a book."

Kitty scowled. "Stop talking!" She turned to Bobby and Angel. "I need some metal and a fire." They nodded and disappeared again. Kitty moved over to Pietro and used her pack to prop him up on his side. She moved in front of him so she could see his face.

"Okay, I'm about to remove the shrapnel. Just tell me if you feel anything," she said. Then, with a surprisingly steady hand, she moved her fingers over Pietro's torso and phased them inside. She could feel his body tissue around her fingers and it almost made her gag, but she had to continue.

Pietro didn't protest, so her idea that this would be a painless procedure seemed to prove true. Bit by bit, she removed pieces of bloody shrapnel and dropped them into a pile on the ground. By the time Bobby Drake handed a red hot piece of piping, she had found most, if not all, of the invasive metal pieces.

Angel and Bobby quickly moved away, not wanting to see what Kitty was about to have to do. She didn't bother to watch them leave. Instead, she took a careful moment to look over the worst of the wounds on Pietro's torso.

"This is going to hurt," she warned him softly. "Yeah, no shit," he responded dully from where he laid on his side, just in front of her bent knees. Kitty tentatively reached out her empty hand and touched his head, her fingers threading through the silver white hair.

"Just think about something else," she advised, moving the metal road to his worst wound. She had no idea of this would work, but it was the only thing she could think of to keep Pietro from bleeding out or getting an infection.

"Like what?" Pietro asked. Kitty hesitated, the hot metal hovering over his skin. "I don't know," she whispered. "Something that makes you happy."

Pietro fell silent, and she gave him a moment to form his thoughts before she quickly pressed the hot metal against his wound. He let out a strangled yelp of pain. Kitty's chest tightened and she pushed back tears as Pietro squirmed beneath her against the searing pain.

He reached up a hand and grasped her shoulder. Kitty cringed at his intense grip, but she didn't move away. Even after she lifted the metal away from his singed flesh, Pietro still groaned and writhed for several moments. His entire body had curled up like a coil and his head was now in her lap. Her free hand stayed in his hair.

"Just a few more," Kitty murmured, biting her lip and struggling to stay coherent.

Pietro didn't protest, so she continued cauterizing his worst wounds, one after another. At one point, he had pulled her down by the grip on her shoulder and buried his face in her neck as he had done right before the explosion. He couldn't even manage words. Instead, he simply gasped and cried out against her skin.

Finally, Kitty dropped the metal rod to the dirt floor and ghosted her fingertips over the burned skin. She sniffed a little, her eyes casting upwards for a moment for divine intervention. Then she blew softly on the skin to cool it, though she knew it was little help for the intense pain.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wincing again at his bone-crushing grip on her shoulder.

Finally, finally, Pietro began to calm. His fingers slowly uncurled from where they'd imprinted themselves on her skin and he dropped the hand down onto her lap. Kitty turned her head just enough to feel their cheeks brush, her eyes following his face to find his eyes tightly shut and still buried against her. His lips remained parted as he panted against her shoulder.

After a long moment, he pulled back enough to see Kitty's face, his throat moving up and down with a painful swallow. His body was shaking in a way that Kitty had never seen, but he made no mention of it. Instead, he glanced down at her shoulder where his grip had been. It was already bruising.

"Why didn't you just phase through my hand?" he rasped out, his eyes moving back to hers. Kitty stared for a moment, her lips parted, before she followed his gaze to her shoulder. She brushed the darkening marks with her fingertips and then let them fall away. Her lips curled into a confused frown. Wasn't it obvious?

"Because you needed someone to hold on to."

* * *

Author's Note: Edited because I like to use the same word a thousand times.


	9. Sequence

Author's Note:

Hello again! Lots of excitement in store! And I already have the next few chapters planned out in detail, so it shouldn't be too long.

TraitorousFreshman15 - You, my loyal reviewer, will enjoy this chapter. ;) Things won't stay so sweet and fluffy for long, though, so stock up now. Plus, your reviews always make me laugh. Oh, and I have done quite a bit of research for this fic. Though I admit, there may very well be some historical inconsistencies, I am trying very hard.

Froggygrl - Glad you got the reference! That's one of the Pietro jokes in this chapter that I thought of and then laughed out loud at. I amuse myself.

Silver - Thank you! I'm glad you don't mind the brutality of the story, given the context. It can be a little upsetting, particularly when you consider that these are things that actually happened, but I think it's essential to the story. Thank you again for reviewing!

Sunnyodd - Wow! Thank you so much for the very sweet review. I also love languages (English, Japanese, Spanish, Latin), which is where a lot of Kitty's dialogue comes from. And for the record, your English is marvelous. (:

* * *

_"I don't understand."_

_"You will," the man promised her in gentle tones. "It will take time, but as with most other grand things in life, it will be worth the wait." _

_He leaned forward in his chair, his slacks rustling. _

_"What if ... I don't want to be a mutant?" Her voice grew small. "What if I just want to keep being me?" _

_The unfamiliar man's piercing blue eyes crinkled as the corner of his lips lifted in a smile. _

_"Then you join the ranks of countless others across the world who feel the very same," he told her. "But it is important to remember that you are truly no different now than you were just last a few weeks ago. Your abilities are evolving, but they do not come from an unnatural source. They are borne of you, dear girl. You, as you truly are." _

_She fell silent and turned her gaze to her bedroom window. _

_"And what about other people?" she asked, frowning. She looked back to the man. "What happens when they find out that I'm ... different?" _

_The wheels on his chair turned to face her directly. _

_"One day, the world will know of us. I do not expect them to be kind or understanding. So we must be both in their place. Do you understand?" _

_She nodded slowly and hugged her knees. _

_"I'm afraid," she admitted in a childish whisper. _

_"Dearest Katherine," said the man. "There will be moments in your life when you are so afraid, so anguished, that you feel as though the world has weighed you down. However, you must never stop getting back up. You must never stop climbing, no matter how badly it hurts. Then, one day, you will find that all your troubles are beneath you... and you are standing on top." _

_He rested a hand on her shoulder. The small girl smiled at him. _

_"Kitty," she murmured. "You can call me Kitty." _

* * *

She sat upright with a strangled gasp.

Panic filled her chest. Everything around her was pitch black. Her eyes struggled to adjust, hoping to catch a glimmer or shadow, but the air was ink. She reached out a hand blindly, hoping to find something, anything, to tell her where she was.

She stumbled onto her hands and knees and pitched herself forward in a frantic crawl.

"Ow! What in the hell are you doing, Pryde?"

A voice in the darkness made her freeze. Suddenly, it all came rushing back to her. Warsaw. The uprising. Pietro Maximoff doubled over in pain, clutching her in a desperate attempt to assuage his agony.

She'd been asleep. Her chest loosened.

"Sorry," she muttered, drawing back from where she had accidentally crawled over Pietro's sleeping bag. She bumped his knees with her hands. "I can't see a thing down here. Are we still in the cellar?"

"Where else would we be?"

"I don't know. I'm just disoriented I guess," she admitted to the darkness. It felt strange to talk to someone she couldn't see. "Yeah, well. I lost half a body's worth of blood today, so I think I have the right to be a little more out of it than you do," he said dryly from somewhere to her left. Kitty rolled her eyes.

"Why is it so dark down here?"

"If I had to wager a guess, I'd say it's because it's night," he said flatly. "And we're in a cellar. God, have you been drinking a secret stock of Benadryl? What's wrong with you?"

Kitty let out an exasperated sigh and sat back on her sleeping bag. "I just had a weird dream," she admitted quietly. "I guess it got me all out of sorts." She peered up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the moon through the floorboards of the windmill, but to no avail.

"Where are Bobby and Angel?" she asked, shifting on to her side. "Asleep, somewhere," Maximoff answered. "I heard them both snoring just a few minutes ago."

Kitty lowered her voice, flushing a little at how loud she'd been talking. "Oh." And then - "Where's a lantern?" She began to feel around again, but this time, she bumped the tips of her fingers against Pietro's sleeping bag. He was just a few feet away. Her fingers brushed over what had to be his hip.

"No idea, but it doesn't matter. We don't need to waste it. You just gonna light a lamp and sit here, doing nothing?"

Kitty wrinkled her nose. "Fine," she said, moving to turn back to her sleeping bag. Her fingers brushed something icy cold and she jerked her hand away. "Good god, Maximoff. Is that your skin?" She reached out without thinking and curled her hands around what felt like his lower arm. "You're still not wearing your shirt? It's like ten degrees in here!"

She heard Maximoff grunt next to her, possibly shifting from his position on the floor.

"I don't know where it is," he said nonchalantly. Kitty growled softly. "I handed it to you before I went to sleep!"

"Yeah, well, I think giving me the responsibility of keeping up with a shirt after the day I've had is asking a little much."

Kitty let go of his arms and began prowling the dark floor. "I'll find it," she said confidently. "You're going to freeze to death without something on." She bumped into his ankle and then carefully climbed over him. She probably looked ridiculous right now, but thankfully, no one could see her.

Her fingers brushed cloth.

"Ah-ha! Oh, wait. This is your coat." She sighed. "This will have to do." Crawling back over to him ("Ow - God damn it, Pryde. Stop trying to trample me, you damn triceratops") she sat on her folded legs and reached out tentatively to find his arm in the darkness. Her fingers brushed his icy skin. Just a moment's hesitation followed before she traced her hand up his arm to find his shoulder.

Maximoff finally fell silent.

She kept her touch light, mostly because of his wounds but also because it was a strange sensation to ghost her fingers over his skin this way. She brushed some bandages and then his collarbone. "Here," she whispered. "Lean forward a bit."

He did as he was told, for once. Kitty slipped the coat around his shoulders and pulled it forward. Her knuckles brushed the bare skin of his unseen stomach. She'd barely had time to look at him earlier, when she had cleaned and wrapped his wounds, but she knew everything on him was tightly corded muscle. The thought made her cheeks flush.

She cleared her throat a little and closed the jacket at the bottom, near the top of his pants. Her fingers hesitated there, curled at the buttons that must hit just below his navel.

"Are your bandages okay?" she asked uncertainly. She wondered if he was facing her. He took a moment to answer.

"I'm not sure," he replied, his tone curious.

Kitty's eyebrows lifted. Slowly, she lifted her hands up the inside of the coat until she reached the collar. Her fingers moved from the material to his skin. Most of his bandages were concentrated around his shoulder and back, so she pressed her palm against his bare torso and searched for their soft papery feel.

She could feel his chest rise and fall with his breaths. And now she could tell, from the way her hands moved, that he was lying down but had pushed himself up on his elbows. Her other hand reached forward and found purchase on his collarbone. She leaned forward, letting it steady her, as she let her right hand drift up and finally find the badges on his shoulder.

Pressing her fingertips to the every edge of the bandage in slow, simple strokes, she carefully checked for any corners that had curled up or come untaped. The two of them remained silent, their expressions hidden.

Kitty could feel her face growing hot again. _You're just checking bandages, _she told herself firmly. _Stop being immature, Kitty. _

Perhaps it could have been done more quickly, she had to admit to herself, but Maximoff wasn't protesting, so Kitty eased herself into a more relaxed posture next to him and took her time evaluating the wrappings. Without sight, she had only touch to rely on, so she moved her hands gently to his shoulder blade and made certain her tie there held strong.

Her hair fell forward, escaped from her ponytail, and she was sure that it brushed him, though he said nothing. Finally, she moved to sit back. Her hand fell away from him, but before she could fully pull away, another hand darted out and caught her wrist.

She breathed in sharply.

The grip was tense for a long moment before it loosened. Digits longer and sturdier than hers fell away from their grip and then moved to the inside of her wrist, tracing up a slow path into her open palm.

Kitty's heart thumped in her chest, her invisible expression bewildered as she felt the larger hand move in hers, its motions almost curious. After a moment, the movements became more confident and deliberate. Pietro Maximoff's fingers pressed against the lines of her palm and traced their way up the insides of her digits.

Never before had she considered that hands could be so intimate.

She let her own gentle grip fall over his knuckles, their hands hovering between their torsos in a strange embrace. Her thoughts shifted away from confusion and entered more into the acute sensations that came from every minute movement of his hand in hers. The darkness emboldened them both, offering a sense of anonymity that allowed such a bare and simple moment of unfiltered interaction.

Her fingers moved inside his hand now and unfurled against his palm in a feather light motion. Her digits slipped between his and ran a careful course up the insides of his knuckles before moving back down in a slow sweep to his wrist. His hand shifted and caught hers again, folding over it gently.

His thumb moved over knuckles in a soft, sweeping motion before he silently laced them and pressed their joined hands to the ground. Kitty followed the movement and lowered herself to the ground on her side.

The hand that was not joined with his tucked under her head as a pillow. She was afraid to speak, though what she was afraid of, she couldn't say.

She closed her eyes and forced her breathing to steady. Sleep overwhelmed her.

* * *

Pietro cracked open an eye.

Sunlight filtered through the wooden planks above in sparse beams. He shifted in his sleeping bag, but he had little room to move. He opened both eyes sleepily. It was then that he realized the very nearness of a sleeping Kitty Pryde next to him.

She had his arm curled up in her embrace like a stuffed animal.

Pietro shifted, just a little, and then let himself relax against his sleeping bag again. His hand was tucked near her face and his entire arm, up to his elbow, she had wound tightly in both of hers. It had pulled them rather close.

Or had they been this close when she'd lain down last night?

He did not know what to feel, so he forced himself into the usual practice of feeling nothing.

It was difficult, though. Waking up after such a gruesome day only to find a sanguine sight like this in front of him made him reluctant to move away. The feeling of contentment was almost suffocating.

He stretched the fingers that rested near her face. They brushed under her chin, and he was surprised to find that they were not numb from being held in such a tight grip all night. He let them fall into a relaxed curl once more. They naturally fell over the tops of her tiny hands.

"Kitty?"

Bobby Drake was calling from the other side of the cellar, his voice still thick with sleep. "Where are you?"

Pietro glanced up, glad that he and Kitty were sheltered behind some crates. She stirred at Drake's voice, shifting just enough to allow Pietro to pull his hand away. By the time she had roused completely, he was several feet away and curled up under his jacket.

"Kitty? There you are," Drake said from a distance. "Why're you sleeping all the way over here?"

Pryde sounded confused. He could relate.

"I - I don't know. I must have gotten up to check on Maximoff," her jaw cracked with a yawn. Pietro could not see her, but he felt her gaze on him, from where he pretended to sleep in a corner.

"Well, Angel found some breakfast. Come on, let Maximoff rest and we'll get him up in a little while."

She must have nodded, because all he heard after that was her slow rise and then Drake's heavy footsteps, leading her away.

* * *

Kitty wished she had something else to occupy her mind, but she didn't. Walking didn't require much concentration, particularly now that they were out of the forest and instead wading through foothills and grassy pastures. It was unnerving being out in the open this way, but so far, they'd been lucky enough to remain unspotted.

And so that left her only with thoughts of the night before, which were muddy and strange in her mind like a dream that one only remembered after a full waking day. She had said nothing to Maximoff, and he nothing to her, but no one was much in the mood for talking. Angel's "breakfast" had been some fruit and berries, but it was hardly enough to keep them going.

Why had Maximoff grabbed her like that? In the darkness, it felt like the gentle touch could have been anyone. But it had been him, of that she was certain. Maybe he was just lonely, she theorized, though that sounded rather out of character for Maximoff. No, it was more likely a cruel joke than a plea for company.

That hurt Kitty's feelings even more than the idea of Maximoff's supposed desperation.

God, this was getting ridiculous. Kitty Pryde knew better than to let things like this distract her, particularly when their lives were in danger. And even though no one was shooting at them at the moment, their lives were very much in danger. They had abandoned the river entirely and were now hoping for a straight trek north. It wouldn't be hard, if the terrain was kind to them, but they were growing weaker with every passing hour without food.

Even if they found a town where they might remain anonymous, they had no money and Kitty Pryde would not kill or threaten someone for food. They could steal, but moral judgements aside, they were too weak to simple grab something and run and too noticeable to be stealthy.

Two days passed.

The beautiful landscape of hills and grassy valleys that surrounded them did nothing to help their moods.

Kitty touched her stomach and winced. She had never known hunger pains were a real thing, but the sharp pangs were becoming so severe that the grassy knoll beneath her was becoming harder and harder to traverse. Her feet dragged against the dirt and her arms settled loosely at her sides. It was hard to stand up straight, hard to keep pushing her legs forward.

_Suck it up, Kitty. You can do this. We are going to get there. _

The others walked ahead of her, mostly in silence. Kitty fought to keep up.

She began to wonder where they were going. It was difficult to remember. She tried reciting periodic elements to keep her mind focused.

_Hydrogen. Lithium. Beryllium. _

One step. Two steps.

_Sodium. Mag - Magnesium._

Three steps. Four.

_Potacium. Cal..cium. Rubid - _

She collapsed.

* * *

"Kitty!"

Pietro turned around just in time to see Kitty collapse against the grass. Angel was beside her in an instant, scooping her own exhausted arms around Kitty's middle and tugging her up.

"Come on, Kitty... You can do this, we'll just go a little further."

Besides him, Bobby Drake ran a hand through his hair and swallowed tightly. "Just stop and let her rest," he told Angel, his voice cracking. Pietro dropped his pack to the ground and closed his eyes for a moment. He felt as haggard as Bobby looked.

In the distance, a train whistled.

Pietro's eyes opened. He stepped around Angel, who was still trying to help Kitty Pryde stand. His eyes traveled down the nearest hill, settled against a thick grove of trees. For just a moment, he could see a puff of white smoke hovering above the conifers.

His followed the tracks with his gaze. The familiar screech of train gears and rhythmic thunk of the wheels sounded to the south. It would be passing them soon.

Pietro turned and looked at Bobby Drake.

"Hey Drake," he said, his eyes suddenly determined. "You think you make one last run?"

Bobby's brows furrowed. "What - I - I don't know, maybe," he said uncertainly. Pietro looked back at the tracks.

"Do you think you could do it while holding Angel?"

Bobby stared at him in disbelief. "You cannot be serious," he started, but Pietro was already moving past him to the girls.

"Alright, ladies, time to go."

"I don't think Kitty can walk, Maximoff," Angel huffed. "She won't have to," he replied, scooping the incapacitated Kitty up into his arms. He nodded into the distance. "Because we are getting on that." The train engine bellowed in the distance.

"You have got to be kidding me," Angel said flatly behind him.

"Look, Salvadore. I'm getting on that train. And I guess I'm taking Pryde, " He waved the nearly unconscious girl in his arms. "because I'm already holding her. So either come or don't." In the distance, the train came into view. Pietro dug in his heels and looked at the other two.

"Besides, it's gotta be better than that floating door you used to get into the U.S. the first time, right?"

Angel shrieked indignantly and Pietro winked before disappearing in a flash of grey and white.

To the south, the mechanical jolts and jingles of the train grew louder.

Pietro raced, harder than he had for days, with Kitty Pryde carefully situated in his arms. The flashing red boxcars were behind him for now, but soon they would catch up, and it was then that he would really be put to the test.

On a normal day, he could have run circles around this train. Today, he would be damn lucky not to end up underneath it.

The first train car passed him and then another, with eight or ten more bringing up the rear in wondrously loud hisses and clanks. Pietro ran right along the track, his feet slamming into the gravel that rolled off the train's path, right next to the whirring metal wheels that churned at high speeds near his ankles.

_Door, door, door, _Pietro thought, his grey eyes searching out the walls of the train cars as they flashed by. Some of them jolted and jumped as the locomotive flashed over the tracks, creating even more racket than the blinding wind and the metal against metal so nearby.

Pietro's body began to protest in earnest, but he pushed harder.

_God damn it, where is a DOOR? _

Finally, he spotted it. "Ha!" he exclaimed, forcing his feet faster and faster. Smoke billowed out of the top of one of the boxcars and floated over his head like a haunt. Pietro shifted Kitty in his arms and reached out with one hand, fingers curling, grasping for the metal hook that would slide open the door.

But for the first time in his life, and in possibly the worst moment as well, he tripped by his own fault.

It was such a foreign sensation that Pietro didn't recognize it at first. His weakened legs crumbled, his feet faltered and caught in the gravel, and the intense speed of his run suddenly lifted him up and into the air. The force of the wind billowing off the train sucked the two of them back between the cars and in a split second, Pietro marveled at how badly it was going to hurt to blast through the tin metal walls of the boxcar.

He braced himself and curled over Kitty in a snap of motions, waiting for the pain.

Instead, he suddenly felt like he was being sucked through a vortex.

Pietro cursed as he slammed into a wooden floor, skipped over it like a stone on a pond and then crashed into a rickety metal wall. Kitty rolled straight into him and collapsed in an undignified heap.

Outside, the sounds of the train dulled. The wind was gone.

Pietro cautiously opened his eyes. They were in the back of the boxcar.

"Holy - fucking - shit," he rasped out, sucking in a deep lungful of air and falling over to his side. Pryde had phased them. She had phased them through the wall. He put a hand over his chest. "Pryde, you are - fucking useful."

Next to him, Kitty Pryde winced and managed to roll over on her back.

"Thanks, Maximoff.." she said tiredly. "Try to pick up the speed next time."

He shot her his dirtiest look and pushed her legs off his. Kitty grinned at him weakly for a moment, but then she sat up, blinking as dizzy.

"Angel and Bobby!"

She jumped up, wobbling on shaky legs, and pushed herself to the door Pietro hadn't been able to reach. She pulled the handle and slid it open with great effort. Pietro moved behind her. "Hey! Watch it!"

The Polish countryside flashed by like a life size portrait.

"Where are they?" she shouted over the wind and train racket. Pietro peered out with her. "I don't - "

"There they are!" Kitty pointed, and Pietro saw them. _Shit_, he thought. Drake was all the way at the last train car, two cars behind them, racing on his ice and gripping a terrified Angel under one arm. He was barely keeping pace with the very back of the train, but he couldn't get close enough to grab on.

"We have to go help them!" Kitty shouted. Pietro grimaced. This sounded like it was going to end up in some X-Men level heroics, and he wanted no part in it, but Kitty grabbed him and yanked him along anyway.

"We'll have to get to the back, just hold on to me and don't let go!" she told him firmly. Pietro rolled his eyes. "You sure we can't just leave them?" he asked. Kitty pinched him. "Ow!" He rubbed at his skin and then grabbed her elbow. They both stepped carefully out of the back of the boxcar.

The wind, noise, and acrid smoke assaulted them once more.

Pietro's eyes widened when he looked down. Shit, the tracks beneath them were racing by in nauseating spurts, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like (for the split second one knew what was happening) to be crushed and shredded by them. He and Kitty had only a metal hitch to stand on between carts.

"One, two, three, go!" Kitty exclaimed, pulling them both with a little leap through the front of the other train car. They landed in a cart similar to the other, filled with crates and most certainly not up to specs in terms of modern-day train safety.

Kitty hurried to the back, dragging him all the way. They stepped out again, this time on the very back of the last train. They only had a small bumper, perhaps a few inches wide, to stand on. Behind them was nothing but gritty looking tracks and rolling countryside. Pietro linked an arm around the back ladder that went up to the roof and hooked the other arm around Kitty's waist. The wind threatened to push them both off, but he secured his arm firmly and gave her a nod.

"Make this shit quick!" he shouted to her.

Behind them, Bobby Drake was pushing his powers to the limit trying to keep up with the train. Kitty leaned far out, and Pietro leaned with her, keeping one arm locked around her torso.

"Angel! Grab my hand and I'll phase you guys in!" she shouted. Angel whipped her head around to look at Kitty and immediately reached out, but their fingers kept missing. Bobby faltered a little and they fell further behind.

"I need to reach further!" Kitty told him. Pietro swore. "If I hold you out any further, I might drop you!"

"Just do it!" she protested. Pietro scowled and loosened his grip just a bit. His fingers pressed into her hip, determined to keep their grip there. She extended her hand once more, lengthening her body as much as possible to try and reach her friends.

Angel seemed to be growing more desperate. She threw out her arm and struggled, fingertips brushing with Kitty's when the train suddenly gave a lurch. Kitty shrieked and Pietro snatched her back to him, holding her there as the train settled.

"I've got it," she promised him. Pietro flicked his gaze to the other two once more before he reluctantly let her go back out. This time, when she extended her hand, she moved her arm just right and caught Angel's hand.

"Pull us in, Pietro!"

He didn't need to be told twice. Pietro yanked them all with the last of his strength and the four of them phased through the back wall and tumbled into the boxcar.

The noises of the outside faded, only to be replaced by heavy breathing.

"Oh.. my god," Angel groaned, rolling on to her stomach. Her windblown hair was strewn all over her face. "Fuck.. _all_ of you people.. Except you, Kitty.. You're awesome." She crawled away, dragging her torso like an injured animal.

Pietro let his head fall against the floor with a thunk.

* * *

Author's Note: as usual, be on the lookout for edits and revisions. Thanks!


	10. Lull

Author's Note:

Gasp! I'm rolling now. Okay, so this chapter is pretty much just filler and probably could have been condensed into the last chapter, but I wanted to give you all one more full chapter of pleasantries. Why? Because every chapter from here on out will be _horrifying_.

You've been warned.

My other reasoning is this. I have issue with stories where two characters form a seemingly poignant and long-lasting relationship borne only out of their extenuating circumstances. So often I see a couple (in literature or film) go into a harrowing experience together with no previous bond and come out of it suddenly determined that they are going to spend the rest of their lives together simply because they both survived. Realistically, meaningful bonds and relationships like that come from things more akin to communication and companionship. Which is why I am including scenes like Kitty and Pietro's seemingly irrelevant conversations. At the beginning of this tale, they know each other only on the surface level. I'd like to make a point to include the shift from that Point A to Point B.

Also, it would just be terrible of me to spend the entire story having them attacked, shot at, and maimed constantly. They need a little respite.

TraitorousFreshman15 - I'm glad I was right! You should enjoy this one as well. Pietro and Kitty are very fun to write together, even during their more difficult moments. I hold these two characters very dear.

Froggygrl - Those were my reactions while I was writing it! Ah-ha! Things always seem so exciting in my head. I get frustrated sometimes trying to convey the heart stopping thrills on paper, though. The train scene was one I scrapped and re-wrote a couple of times before I was satisfied.

Sunnyodd - I read chapters twice in a row when I really enjoy them as well! That makes me happy, because I know you must have enjoyed it if that was your reaction. Thank you again for your review and I hope this one is just as fun for you.

Ebble - Yes, they have certainly been through a lot. Unfortunately, the worst is yet to come. Still, this chapter is mainly composed of the train ride and I don't think it ruins anything to tell you that it's the easiest time the group has had in a while.

On to the story!

* * *

Pietro wished he could just take these damn bandages off.

Seriously, they were itchy and bothersome and he hated feeling constricted. He'd run around naked a jaybird more than once in his very young life simply because pants were an obstacle he'd rather not deal with. Fortunately, that had been in the European countryside.

Now that he reflected on it, though, his father probably should have stopped him once he started going through puberty. Might have saved him some embarrassment.

"Stop messing with your bandages," Kitty scolded him off to the side. She was sitting on the floor of the boxcar, far below where Pietro had perched himself up on some crates. He scowled and dropped his hands.

"They're itchy."

"Well, too bad."

"I'd rather have no skin than have to wear them," he told her in long-suffering tones, reaching up and tugging at his sleeves again. Even though she was obviously exhausted, Kitty Pryde rose and swatted his hands away. "Well, I don't want to have to look at you with no skin, so leave them alone."

"I wonder what's in these crates," Angel said from somewhere in the corner. Pietro heard wood cracking as the girl began yanking the nailed tops.

"Angel," Kitty started, sounding as if she had said this a thousand times. "Don't touch them."

Angel ignored her (_Like everyone else, _Pietro thought with a satisfied smirk) and continued working at the crate with all the grace and tact of a bull elephant. Bobby hovered nearby, peering curiously at her work, but not willing to risk Kitty's ire to help.

Kitty tossed her arms in exasperation when Angel ripped off a piece of the crate lid and pieces of wood littered the floor. "I give up," she muttered, slumping to the floor again. Pietro watched from his perch as Angel fell over into the large crate with a shriek, her feet sticking straight up in the air.

A moment later, she popped back up, holding a cereal box in her hand. She tossed it to a shocked Kitty.

"You were saying?" she asked, grinning wildly.

"Oh my god," Kitty gasped, ripping open the box as Angel pulled out more boxes and jars, all full of preserved food. "Holy shit!" Angel shrieked, yanking off a jar lid and shoving something in her mouth. "It's a pickle! The most delicious pickle!" she chewed quickly and swallowed, throwing boxes out and letting the others scoop them up. Pietro jumped down and immediately snatched up a load of carefully packaged bread.

It was over half an hour before anyone stopped eating long enough to speak.

"I wonder where all this is going," Bobby Drake said around a mouthful of food. "Knowing our luck? A fucking military base," Angel said wryly, shoving a mouthful of dry cereal into her mouth. Pietro had returned to his seat on top of the crate, away from the others, but Kitty was near him, cross-legged on the floor. Some color had returned to her cheeks.

"I doubt it," she said (after swallowing her food, unlike the others). "This doesn't look like military rations. It's probably going to a town market or something."

"Well, " Angel said, finally setting the food aside. "They are going to be pissed when they come in THIS car." Kitty giggled and closed up her box. She leaned against the tall crate Pietro was seated on. He peered down at her thoughtfully and chewed on some dried meat and cheese.

They'd left the sliding door open. Outside, the countryside was a blur of motion tinted orange. He watched as Kitty leaned against the crate and turned her face towards the warmth of the sun as it sank into the horizon.

"Damn," Angel said from a few feet away. "My pack strap is broken."

She sat on the floor and messed with it until Drake came over and lowered himself next to her. "Here, I can tie it." He looped the broken straps back together and tied them in a complicated knot. Pietro was only half paying attention to them.

"There, all fixed," said Drake. Angel gave a low whistle. "That's nifty. Look, Kitty." She showed her friend. "Where'd you learn to do that, Bobby?"

Pietro watched as Drake settled back against another crate on the floor. "Boy Scouts," he answered with a smile. Pietro rolled his eyes with near super human force.

Angel's lips quirked a bit. "Oh, cool." She focused on her pack again and bit her lip. Pietro smirked when Bobby didn't notice. Instead, he cast a dreamy look outside.

"Actually, I was on a Boy Scouts expedition when I first got my powers," he told them. Pietro swallowed his food.

"Let me guess," he cut in. "An overly friendly troop leader cornered you in a lone woodland cabin." He raised both brows suggestively. "And then - poof! Icy sprinkles save the day." Bobby's glare made him snicker as he draped himself over the top of the crate, as if his lack of concern wasn't obvious enough from his expression.

"No," Bobby said flatly. "Actually.. I was alone." He looked out of the open door again. "And I wasn't scared or threatened. I got my powers when I was really, really happy." Pietro made a twitchy face, but Bobby went on.

"We had just made this big climb in the Smokies. I was the first one to make it to the top. It had been so hot the entire time, but once we got to the summit, it felt like we were in a totally different world. It was cool and quiet. It was the most peaceful place I had ever seen."

Pietro raised a brow. The two girls were listening intently, which made him roll his eyes again.

"I went off by myself and found this really beautiful area with a little pond. I could see fish swimming around under the surface. It was so serene. I sat down by the water and I just remember feeling ... overwhelmingly content." He smiled a little. "So I reached out and touched the surface, just to see it ripple.. and it froze."

Angel giggled. "What did you do?"

"I freaked out," he admitted sheepishly. "I didn't tell anyone else, not until Storm and Scott came by my parent's house to recruit me for Xavier's. I was terrified, but I'm glad I went." He sighed. That was almost two years ago." The two girls smiled, no doubt imagining the tranquil scene of nature that Bobby was reflecting on. Pietro, on the other hand, sat up suddenly.

"Wait a minute." He stared incredulously at him. "You were a Boy Scout just _two years _ago?"

Bobby linked. His cheeks began to color. "Well, yeah, I mean - "

"Jesus Christ, I thought you were talking about when you were a little kid!" Pietro exclaimed, laughing so uncontrollably that he almost fell off his crate. "Maximoff, shut up!" Angel tossed an empty cereal box at him, but she was obviously trying to bite back her own laughter. Even Kitty was barely suppressing a snicker.

Bobby stared at them all and then flushed red. "You can all just go to hell," he huffed, rolling over. "Aww," Angel called to him, moving over and jumping on top of him. "We're just messing with you! I think it's great! Seriously, Boy Scouts are so hot."

"Shut up," Bobby said, and now _he _was trying not to laugh. Angel rolled around him and began to tickle him. "AGH! Stop!"

Pietro finally managed to catch his breath, unable to get the image out of his head of Bobby Drake wearing shorty-shorts and a sash of badges in place of a shirt. "God, that's awful," he said to himself.

He relaxed against his crate again, his expression well satisfied.

An hour later, the sun had set fully. Angel sat off to the side, trying to untangle her long hair. Bobby Drake was nearby, working with his broken shoe in the moonlight. Pietro stepped over to Kitty.

"It is incredibly stupid to leave this door open," Pietro told her honestly. He stood near the foot of her sleeping bag and looked out at the night sky. She had stretched out perpendicular to the open doorway, her head slightly lifted an arm locked behind her head and her feet pointing out.

"I like to watch the stars," she told him quietly, looking up to where he stood over her. Pietro glanced out at the rolling sky.

"I don't know if you noticed, but we live outside. We see the stars every night," he told her with a smirk. He reached behind him and picked up his sleeping bag, which he unrolled right next to her. Kitty's eyes followed the movements of the bag, her lips quirked, but she didn't comment on it.

Instead, she looked back out at the stars.

"I know," she admitted. "But it doesn't change the fact that they're beautiful." Pietro lowered himself onto the sleeping bag next to her. "I think being able to watch them is the only thing that's kept me sane this entire time."

Pietro reclined carefully, trying not to wince.

Of course, her nosy little gaze caught everything. "Are you ok - "

"Yes," he cut her off, finally relaxing into a lying down position. He turned his head towards hers and raised a brow, easily reading her next question even as her lips had barely parted.

"And no, I didn't remove my damn bandages. Mind your own business."

He thumped her arm.

"Ow!" she cried, scrunching up her face at him and giving him her most heated glare. It might have nuked a frozen pizza. On a good day. Especially when she was trying not to smile, like now. "That's for pinching me earlier," he told her matter of factly. Kitty stuck her tongue out at him.

"That's quite mature, Pryde."

"Oh, right, because you are the poster child for maturity," she retorted with a roll of her eyes. Pietro shrugged his shoulder and settled an arm behind his head.

"Yeah, that's what the cops are always telling me, too," he said, groaning a little as he shifted his back. The sleeping bag next to him rustled as Kitty sat up a little bit more, her temple propped up on her hand so she could peer down at him.

"Have you ever really been arrested?" she asked, eyes wide.

Pietro blinked up at her in disbelief. "Yeah," he said, surprised she didn't know. "Like a hundred times." Her shock made him laugh just a little. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Are you kidding me? I'd have a full blown panic attack. I mean, I could always get out, I guess. But just the idea of going to jail or prison is just terrifying." She shuddered. Pietro snickered quietly.

"It's really not the end of the world. Believe me, though, you'd way rather get arrested in America than in Europe," he told her knowingly, turning his gaze up to the ceiling for a moment. "Some places I've been don't have cops, just people who will just beat your ass to death." He tried not to think of the last time he had encountered a place like that.

He peered curiously at Kitty's horrified expression.

"Really?" she asked, her brows furrowed and Pietro looked back at her again. "Yeah," he admitted quietly. Kitty looked thoughtful, settling down her arm again and stretching it out, her head cushioned there close to her elbow. Her face seemed so close to his.

"But how did _you _get caught? I figured you'd always just run off."

Pietro shifted towards her a little. "Oh, believe me. For every time I got caught, there were a thousand more times that I got away. But, you know. Sometimes I fucked up. I can't move through walls like you, so if I got trapped somewhere.." he trailed off. His eyes flickered. "Actually," he said with a small laugh. "The last time I got arrested was because of Evan."

Kitty's expression shifted, her brown eyes lowering for a moment. "Evan?" she repeated, her tone growing small. Pietro watched her face carefully. He chose his words with care, for perhaps the first time in recent memory.

"Yeah," he murmured. "He'd actually think it was a really funny story if he were here."

Kitty's eyes lifted a little. "Really?"

"Of course. He got me busted and I had to wait a whole week before Magneto finally came and got me out. He'd think that shit was hilarious, especially to hear me tell it," Pietro told her with a little grin.

Kitty's face relaxed a little and finally she smiled in return. "Yeah, he would probably like that." She tucked her hand under her cheek and curled just a little closer.

"So tell me about it," she asked softly.

Pietro pushed one of his arms under his sleeping bag cover for warmth. "Alright," he agreed, even though he could tell from her relaxed, dreamy expression that she would fall asleep before he finished.

"Well, first of all, let me just say that I am _definitely _the superior basketball player..."

About twenty minutes passed, and by the time his story drew to a close, his voice had lowered to a whisper and Kitty was curled in a ball next to him, deeply asleep. He could hear Angel snoring on her other side. Pietro fell silent and watched the small girl for as long as he dared. Then, finally, he turned on to his back and closed his eyes to sleep.

A few minutes passed before he heard his name.

"Maximoff?"

Pietro didn't open his eyes. "What, Drake?"

A moment of silence passed before the other teen spoke again.

"Watch yourself."

Pietro opened both eyes slowly and looked to his left, over Kitty and Angel, to where Bobby was lying on his sleeping bag and looking skyward. Pietro's eyes narrowed a bit.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he told Drake in a hushed voice, careful to keep his tone even. In response, Bobby Drake turned his head and pinned Pietro with a hard, penetrating glare.

Pietro's jaw tightened. He looked away and closed his eyes once more. Bobby hadn't looked at Kitty Pryde when he spoke, but he didn't have to.

Pietro knew exactly what he was saying.

* * *

The train rolled on for three days, only stopping once to briefly load up one of the carts at the front. The group of them crouched, hidden behind containers and ready to flee at moment's notice, but no one came to their car and the train rolled on.

Kitty bit the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. They'd made a nest of sleeping bags in the center of their boxcar, and now Kitty stretched out on her stomach like a fat, lazy cat, playing tic tac toe with Angel.

Outside, it was night once more.

Angel crunched on a rice cake and drew an X. Kitty immediately made an O and grinned triumphantly as she drew her victory line with a piece of chalky rock. "Ha!"

"Oh, man!" Angel scrunched her nose and then laughed. Bobby dropped down beside them and smirked over their game. "That's like the fifth time you've lost," he told Angel. "I know that, shut up." She pushed at him and unfolded her legs, rubbing at her sore knees.

"You know what's gnarly? Not shaving your legs for a month," she said with a groan. Kitty giggled. "You know what's even funnier than that?" Kitty asked. "Neither Bobby nor Maximoff have had to shave since we've left."

Angel burst into a fit of giggles and Kitty joined her when Bobby's face flushed scarlet. He rubbed his jaw. "I'm just not a hairy guy!"

"For your information, I've specifically trained my body not to grow hair," Pietro said as he sat opposite of Bobby and reclined on his elbow. "It's not aero dynamic."

Kitty snorted. "Right," she said with a laugh, even as Angel leaned forward and grinned. "Is _puberty _not aerodynamic either, Maximoff?"

"Shut up," Pietro groused, taking her bag of rice cakes and crunching on one. Kitty giggled and tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Hey!" she said suddenly, looking around at the others. "What day is it?" Bobby blinked. "What day is it here or..." he trailed off.

"No, like. What day would it be if we were still in our time?" she asked. Angel looked thoughtful. "Well, it was May 2nd when we left," she pointed out.

"It's June 8th," Pietro calculated quickly. "Or it would be, anyway."

Kitty smiled to herself and picked at her sleeping bag. "Why?" Bobby asked. Kitty's eyes flickered as she looked up and gave a small, sad sigh. "It's my birthday tomorrow," she admitted softly, her fingers curled at her chin.

"Oh, I totally forgot!" Angel said with a groan. "Aw, I'm sorry. Well, you know, you're alive, so - Happy Fifteenth Birthday, Kitty!"

Next to her, Pietro jerked as if startled. "_Fifteenth?_"

Kitty looked up at him oddly, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Yeah," she laughed a little, her tone curious. Pietro stared at her. Across the circle, Bobby Drake seemed to find something very funny, though he tried to hide it.

"I thought you were about to be a senior!" Pietro squinted at her. Kitty rolled on to her back and returned his peculiar stare. "I am. I skipped two grades," she explained loftily. "Oh, and my birthday is late."

Bobby seemed to be having a harder and harder time hiding his amusement, and when Kitty glanced up, she saw Pietro shoot him a death glare. "Why does it matter?" Kitty asked, tilting her head up at Pietro with a bewildered smile.

Pietro looked genuinely disturbed. "Nothing. I'm going to bed." He waved them off and stood, meandering off to his sleeping bag. Kitty sat up. "What - Maximoff!" Next to her, Bobby Drake fell over into a fit of breathy laughter.

"What is SO funny?" Kitty exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. Bobby waved her off as well, still laughing, and stumbled away. She glanced at Angel, who could only shrug.

"Boys are weird," she said by way of explanation.

* * *

The following day, the train slowed as it neared its final stop. Kitty and the others packed as much food as possible in their packs and then stood in the center of the car. Kitty held out both hands to Angel and Bobby. Pietro stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder.

"Ready?" she asked, and when she received nods from the others, she counted.

"One.. two .. three!"

The four of them dropped through the floor of the boxcar and disappeared into the tracks. When they resurfaced a moment later, the train was well ahead of them and coming to a stop in a small town train station.

Kitty pulled them all out and gave a woeful wave.

"Bye, train." The others turned with her and they moved off the tracks and away from the town.

They were eighteen miles from the coast.

* * *

Author's Note: I know Kitty is sixteen in Evolution, but in the comics, she's actually thirteen (while dating eighteen year old Colossus, no less) so I didn't feel like it was out of the realm of possibility for her to be fourteen/fifteen here. Also, it was hilarious.

Alright, guys. Gear up. It's about to get rough.


	11. Alarm

Author's Note:

I'll keep this short, because this chapter is a haul.

TraitorousFreshman15 - I'm a master at silent hysterical laughter. It comes from reading Reddit in the public bathroom at my work. You're welcome for that visual. ;)

Ebble - I'm afraid that it will definitely get worse before it (possibly) gets better. Don't give up on me, though. (:

Froggygrl - That's another line that I laughed out loud at. I love the idea of Pietro Maximoff, badass that he is, running around as a screaming, naked child in the middle of a meadow.

Silver - You'll have to wait and see about their fate! I believe Pietro is 18 in Evolution, and for the purposes of this story, that's the age I'm going with. Thanks for the review!

SunnyOdd - Glad I could make you laugh! I had thought before about Piotr/Pietro and her affinity for Peters, but I had never considered all the others! Ha, that silly Kitty. I'm glad you pointed that out to me!

One last thing - I want to remind everyone of the **warning **from the first chapter. This story is about a war. It will deal with themes that are not conducive to easy reading. Please remember this.

* * *

"You know what?"

Kitty glanced at Angel, who walked side by side with her, their arms linked.

"What?" Kitty asked easily, swaying a little as the two of them walked the grassy meadow. The weather had warmed just a little and the sun was a welcome sight overhead. Even the normally patchy sky had cleared. It felt wonderful.

"When we get back to Bayville, I'm going to set some goals," Angel told her confidently. Kitty grinned at her friend and patted her arm. They walked at a leisurely pace with the boys just behind them, as silent as the girls were chatty.

"What kind of goals?"

Angel hummed thoughtfully. "I'm going to start studying. Like, really studying. I mean it, Kitty. Next year, you and I are going to graduate. You'll be the valedictorian and I - " she pointed to herself with her free hand. " - will be on the _honor roll." _She nodded smugly.

Kitty giggled. "That's great," she told her friend earnestly.

"Yeah, totally. I mean - Wait, does all B's count as honor roll?"

"Uh," Kitty pursed her lips thoughtfully. She wasn't sure, but Angel looked concerned, so she tugged her close and giggled. "Yeah, definitely." Angel let out a triumphant cry. "All B's it is!" she declared. Kitty looked ahead thoughtfully.

"I should think of a goal, too."

"Why? You're already perfect."

Kitty frowned a little. "I'm not! I mean, there's lots of things I can improve on." She tilted her head and her thoughts rolled over the last few weeks. "Like, I could.. I don't know, be more open. You know, to other people who aren't necessarily like me. I need to branch out."

Angel snorted. "You already do that, Kitty. I mean, come on, you're dating Lance and he's your total opposite."

Kitty flushed scarlet. "I am not dating Lance!"

"That's not what _he _says," Angel retorted in a sing song voice. Kitty fought not to glance back at the two boys. "Well, he's wrong," she said firmly, looking straight ahead. "I mean, we went on a few dates, but that was months ago. We are definitely not dating, even if he's too dumb to know it."

They both giggled. A moment of silence lapsed before Pietro Maximoff spoke suddenly behind them.

"What the hell are you looking at, Drake?"

Kitty glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Pietro lean over to Bobby. "Do you want to hold hands and talk about relationship experiences, too? Because - and I'm not even lying here - I would _love _that." He smirked and raised both brows.

Kitty turned away again and laughed, tucking into Angel's arm and hiding her face. Her brown eyes simply would not follow her commands to stay forward.

* * *

They relaxed next to a creek that split off from the main river. Pietro sat against a tree, knees pulled up in front of him, and studied a combat knife from his pack. He pressed his fingertip over the edge, but it was dull from use.

"Hey," Kitty Pryde suddenly sat down right next to him so close their hips touched. He paused in his thoughtful perusal of the weapon and glanced at her. She was studying her map.

"What do you think this is?" she asked, leaning closer and pointing. Pietro's eyes flickered over her face for just a moment before he followed her fingertip to the point on the map.

"It's just a pen mark," he told her after a moment's inspection. He touched the map, just next to where her hand was poised. "There used to be an overpass here, I think. It looks like whoever wrote this had marked it out and indicated an alternate route."

He traced it slowly along the crinkled paper, watching as Kitty's eyes followed his careful movements.

"It probably got destroyed," he added, his voice dropping due to their proximity. She sat next to him, so at ease, so willing to trust. It was startling, but impossible to draw away from.

Kitty tilted her head up at his and smiled.

"Thanks," she said, but she didn't move from his side until they all rose to walk once more.

* * *

They had only been travelling a few minutes when the first gunshot sounded. Kitty stopped, her eyes scanning over the thick grove of trees that surrounded them. They had left the rolling meadows and cut through an area of forest once more. Everything around them was dense and wild.

Pietro appeared by her side. "It's alright, we're going west anyway."

Ahead of them, Bobby and Angel continued to walk, chatting amicably. Pietro touched Kitty's arm and she stepped once more, preparing to leave. Another gunshot sounded, this one followed by raucous laughter. Kitty continued with Pietro, but she stopped at another, less familiar sound.

A woman's scream.

Kitty's head jerked up and she turned swiftly in the direction of the noises. Another shorter scream followed. Kitty's brows furrowed.

"Pryde.." Pietro started, but Kitty was already hurrying off, ducking under branches and dragging her jean covered legs through snagging underbrush. She dropped to her knees when the noises grew louder and crawled until she came to a small opening in the thickets. Pushing aside the last few leaves, Kitty peered down a tall earthy slope that leveled out into an open area of grass and sparse shrubbery.

Near the foot of the slope, five soldiers in generic military fatigues stood around, joking and laughing. One of them had a gun poised on his shoulder and was smoking a cigarette. Two others sat off to the side, propped up against a pile of tightly bound sleeping bags. The last two, on the other hand, were quite busy holding on to a terrified young Polish woman in civilian clothing.

Kitty's chest tightened.

The woman was struggling, babbling in words Kitty's couldn't make out. None of the speech was loud enough to meet her ears, but it was easy to see that the men had paused to rest much like she and her friends had earlier. She knew others were around, but they were tucked around the corner of a thick patch of trees. Only slivers of their silhouettes were visible from where she hid.

The man holding on the woman said something sharp to her and yanked her by her arm into his tight grip. She cried out and pushed against him, but she could only stumble over her dirty, torn skirt and well-worn boots. Kitty's chest filled with a deep, boiling rage that threatened to burst when the soldier grasped the woman's chest through her smock and laughed to the others.

"God damn it, Pryde." Pietro was at her side. "We have to get out of here."

Kitty turned to him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Not yet, we have to help that woman."

Pietro followed her gaze. His eyes grew hard as the men tossed the woman between them, apparently amused by her fear.

"We can't," he told Kitty firmly. "We have to go." He grabbed for her hand, but Kitty pulled away. "We're not going anywhere until we help that woman!" She hissed at him. "Look at what they're doing - "

"I can see that, Kitty, but this is war. It happens."

"How can you _say _that?" Kitty whispered harshly. Pietro looked away for a moment and took a deep, steadying breath before he spoke. "Pryde," he said slowly. "I don't like it any more than you do, but we can _not _go down there - "

"_Why the hell not_?"

"Because if we go down there and help that woman, we will have to kill each and every one of those sons of bitches to keep them from reporting back on us, that's why!" Pietro growled back at her, his fingers curling into the dirt. "Is that what you fucking want?"

Kitty's eyes flickered, her heart and mind protesting against each other in deafening shouts.

"We don't have to kill them," she argued heatedly, her tears threatening to spill over.

"You think they're not going to report on a girl that bursts out of the forest and runs through solid objects, Pryde?" Pietro asked, gripping her by the wrist. "If we rescue that woman and leave those soldiers alive, they _will _alert whoever the fuck they report to. Do you understand?"

Kitty made a distressed noise and looked back out of the opening. Another man had the woman in his lap now, his hand gripping her knee and creeping up her thigh.

Pietro used her moment of distraction to pull her away. He dragged her through the bushes until they reached an area where they could stand safely.

"Now come on," he told her, still holding her wrist. Kitty followed with heavy, angry steps. Her acquiescence lasted all of twenty seconds before she phased her captive wrist through his hand and ran.

"Pryde!" Pietro exclaimed, darting after her. He caught up to her and snatched at her waist, but she was already phasing and he landed on the ground with nothing.

Kitty leapt.

Everything slowed as she left the top of the embankment, arms spread, and sailed in to the middle of the startled men. One deft roll got her back on her feet and then she dove for the woman, sinking them both underground in a flash.

Alarmed shouts rang out, weapons fired.

Kitty resurfaced on the edge of the clearing with the trembling woman in her grip, but as soon as they were above ground, the woman ripped away from her and stumbled back into a heap on the dirt.

"_Czarownica_!" she shouted, pointing fearfully at Kitty.

"Just go!" Kitty exclaimed, shooing the woman away. "Go, run!"

The woman scrambled into a standing position and darted, leaving Kitty to wonder if she was running from the men or from her. It didn't matter. She was safe now.

Bullets suddenly littered the ground around her and Kitty cried out, ducking down and looking around wildly for her escape strategy. Unfortunately, all she saw was a quick glimpse of three men leveling guns at her.

She dove sideways, the splitting sound of gunfire following her every step. Kitty ducked behind a tree and tried to phase, but her concentration flickered and, in that one moment, a red hot bullet skimmed over the top of her upper arm and cut through the flesh like a serrated knife.

"AGH!" Kitty doubled over, gripping her bleeding arm and fighting to keep her voice down. More soldiers were coming - the others from the far side of the clearing, too - so she ran off for the forest.

She ran into something hard and her mind seized with panic.

Hands snatched her shoulders and yanked her aside. "DRAKE!" Bobby suddenly appeared and Kitty nearly went cross-eyed with relief. Pietro shoved her roughly into Bobby, who grabbed her and held her steady.

Pietro Maximoff looked positively venomous.

"Get her the fuck out of here," he told Bobby. The other boy hesitated, Kitty looking between the two of them all the while, her expression frantic.

"But don't you need help - "

"_I said get her the fuck out of here_!" Pietro bellowed, his eyes flashing dangerously. Bobby took an unsteady step backwards and then looped his arms around Kitty. She only had time to glance back at Pietro once before he took her away, into the relative safety of the shadowed trees.

* * *

Over an hour passed. No soldiers came for them. Bobby and Angel wrapped up Kitty's arm, but they had no water to clean it with.

Dirt and blood mixed in streams and tributaries down her arm.

* * *

When Pietro Maximoff finally emerged into their small clearing, Kitty let out a sigh of relief to see he was alive. However, her comfort was short-lived. He was covered in blood, every inch of him soaked and torn, all a testament to a struggle none of them had had to witness because he sent them away.

Bobby and Angel were tending to her arm, but when Pietro stopped several feet away and stared at her, they melted from Kitty's side.

Kitty stood slowly, her eyes never leaving Pietro's face. They stood apart, nothing between them but ten feet of dark, wet dirt.

"I hope you're satisfied," he said finally, his words slow and deliberate. His eyes cut at her like daggers.

Kitty swallowed. "I did what was right," she told him, her voice quivering only a little.

His expression shifted into one of such deep scorn, Kitty felt its sting rattle in her chest like a hive. "What was.. _right," _he repeated, drawing out the last word like a poison. His lips curled into a humorless smile and he gave an equally dark chuckle.

"See, that's the thing with you X-Men.. Everything is so fucking _black and white_." He lifted his head just a bit, his jaw tight. "Right and wrong... Good and evil... " He held up a finger, as if to shush her. "You think that the right choice and the _obvious _choice are always one in the same, but that's because none of you take even a single moment to consider that nature of people is more complicated than that. And, as a result, the world is more complicated as well."

Pietro stepped to the side, just once, and kept his eyes on her like a circling predator.

"I just killed forty-two men, Pryde." His voice dropped to a whisper, low and even, but his expression had shifted into a snarl. "Forty-two. Because you had to save one woman. Does that seem fair to you?"

"Th - Those men," Kitty started, her voice trembling.

"Maybe five of those men did deserve to die, but because you refused to see the larger picture, they all met an early grave." He pointed at her. "That is your fucking fault, Pryde. It is your fucking fault that they're dead, and I want you to know the fucking reason why."

Tears spilled down Kitty's cheeks.

"All of you _fucking _X-Men," Pietro growled, his voice growing louder. "You only see what's right in front of you, like the bunch of fucking simpletons you are. You want to save those humans because you think it's right, so you do it. You want to stop Magneto because you think it's right, so you do it. You want to bend a fucking knee and scrape the dirt for a peaceful solutions to the _mutant problem, _and what the fuck for? Because it's the _right _thing to do?"

Pietro waved an arm out, his eyes wild.

"You all want to get back to Bayville so fucking badly that you don't even realize you'll be leaving one Holocaust and walking RIGHT into another!" he shouted. "This is what's happening to us, Pryde! This is not the fucking past, this is the future!"

He pointed a finger at her.

"And when they snatch you away, brand you like cattle and put you in a fucking death camp, who the fuck will come and fight for you? These people have the Allies! Their race actually fucking survives this war!"

Kitty stumbled back and shook her sobbing gaze at the ground.

"You're all so content to watch shadows on the wall rather than step out into the light!" he snarled, his eyes alight with fury. "We don't have anyone to fight for us, Pryde! We only have ourselves!" Pietro slammed a fist against the trunk of a tree before he advanced on her, his voice dropping.

"_We must always take sides,_" Pietro quoted, his words a low growl. "Why? Because neutrality is as damning as surrender, Pryde, and I won't fucking have it."

"That won't happen to us," Kitty managed finally, her eyes on the ground and her chest heaving. She looked up. "It won't happen, Pietro. People are - people _know _better now, in our time. They're different! I mean, we live in America, for God's sake."

Pietro stepped closer to her with clenched fists, his face twisted into a scowl.

"You are so _fucking stupid._" He told her in such grating, vehement tones that it made Kitty's heart drop.

"You think that shit like that won't happen just because you're in America? You think that any of you are safe from the prisons, the camps, the laboratories, just because your government tells you that you are?"

"We don't have to FIGHT!" Kitty screamed desperately, clawing at her arms. "It doesn't have to be this way!"

"It does and it will!" Pietro exploded, his eyes briefly disappearing behind clenched lids. Silence passed between them, louder than either of their clamoring voices.

Kitty spoke once more, her voice staggered with every deep breath.

"I will never..." she told him, "... allow myself to believe that just because someone _treats me like an animal _... that I have _any _right to act like one."

Pietro stared at her, his fingers curled tightly.

"That's a shame," he said finally, his voice flat. He met her gaze for just a moment before he turned away from her. He stepped only a few feet away before pausing, turning in her direction, and fishing something out of his pocket.

"By the way, those soldiers from back there?"

He tossed something to the ground.

"They were Americans."

Kitty's lips parted, her mind fighting to keep her from looking to where the American flag patch lay on the ground, stripped from a soldier's uniform. She slipped down into a crouch, buried her face in her hands, and she sobbed.

* * *

_"First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—_

_Because I was not a Socialist._

_Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out— _

_Because I was not a Trade Unionist._

_Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— _

_Because I was not a Jew._

_Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.__" _

_- Martin Niemöller _

* * *

Kitty's injury had slowed them.

What should have taken one grueling day was now lingering into a third. They plodded on, mostly in silence, only stopping to fill their canteens or munch on the last of their food. The walk had been uphill for the most part, which did not help their progress, but no one cared to complain.

Pietro walked at the back of the group, one hand gripping the right strap of his pack to keep some of the weight off his injuries. His gaze remained low, though occasionally he chanced a look up. Bobby Drake walked in front of him by just a few steps.

Angel and Kitty walked side by side, the darker girl looping her arm around the other's waist and occasionally whispering to her. Pietro could see her making tentative, comforting motions towards Kitty, but the other responded only with weak, false smiles.

Pietro looked away again.

It was nearly noon when Angel shouted and bound ahead of them, leaving Kitty a few steps behind as she pushed aside some tree branches.

"Guys, look!" she exclaimed, waving them over. "It's the coast!"

So it was. Pietro peered from a spot a few feet away.

They had only a glimpse, and it was still an unwelcome distance away, but there was no mistaking the sprawling port town that sat on the edge of the country's borders. Boats of different varieties dotted the shore, and from their spot far above the town, they could see small dots of moving people down below.

"Finally," Bobby exhaled quietly. Angel grinned at him and then hugged Kitty, careful to avoid her injured arm. "We did it, Kitty! We're here!" Pietro watched as the brunette girl managed to muster a small smile.

"Yeah, we did it," she agreed. Angel bound ahead of them, practically skipping. "Let's go now!" She ducked under a branch.

"Angel, wait - We need to be careful. It's broad daylight. Let's wait until night and then we can sneak in," Kitty advised, slowing her walk and shifting her pack. Angel whirled around and began to walk backwards, her every step a joyful hop.

"Oh, alright," Angel groaned, still bouncing backwards. "But let me tell you, I cannot _wait - _"

But Pietro never heard what Angel could or could not wait for, because in that moment, her head jerked ungracefully to the side and sprayed warm, sticky blood on the pine next to her.

Then she slumped, falling into the base of the tree in a tangle of roots and limbs.

The three of them stopped. Three heavy, loud heartbeats followed.

"A - Angel?"

Kitty's tiny voice cracked under the strain of dawning comprehension.

Pietro's head turned, his eyes roving over every hazy branch, rock, and tree. The world tilted, slowed, and then snapped back in to place with focus on a long, thin black barrel that protruded from a bush.

"GET DOWN!" Pietro shouted, rushing forward and throwing himself over Kitty. A single blistering shot blasted overhead and shattered the branch overhead. "Come on!" he snatched Kitty's arms and yanked her up, barely managing to tug her limp form over Angel's body.

More gunfire followed, this time rapid and accompanied by angry shouts. Pietro stumbled again, sliding to a stop in the deep earth and moving to take Kitty into his arms. Gunfire rained down on them, driving into the dirt in unstoppable waves.

"We have to go!" he shouted at her over the noise, but her face registered none of it. He pulled her against him and flinched against the assault, but a wall of ice suddenly formed next to him and caught the tail end of a wave of bullets.

Bobby Drake dropped down next to them, his lips parted.

"Fuck!" he shouted, gripping his head for a moment. Pietro quickly jumped to his feet. "Get it together, Drake!" They both jumped, ready to flee, but Kitty's limp body phased right through his arms. Pietro panicked, waving his arms through her slumped form over and over.

"Damn it, Pryde! Stop phasing!"

Pietro scrambled back when bullets sliced into the air around them, but they all sailed right through Kitty, who sat hunched over the ground like the husk of a real person.

"Come on, Kitty!" Drake shouted, but it was no use. The soldiers were moving forward, one with a scoped rifle, and no words could convince her to come.

More gunfire forced them further back. Drake fell over onto the ground and barely managed to dodge a flurry of bullets. Pietro looked only at Kitty, his mind trying to reach her, yell at her, tell her that she has to move or do something because she was going to _die _if she didn't.

Suddenly, her head lifted. Pietro's heart briefly leapt with joy, but it quickly faded. Kitty's face was not her own.

He watched as she stood slowly, her head tilted, her arms lax. She turned fully in the direction of the advancing troops. Her brown eyes lifted and searched with unnatural movements. Pietro watched, his lips parted, as Kitty Pryde lifted her gaze high.

She took in a deep, shuddering breath. Her chest lifted, her lips parted, and then she s_creamed. _

It was not the sort of scream Pietro had ever heard in his life. It did not fade when she should have been on her last bout of oxygen, but instead grew louder, shriller, and more anguished. Kitty's hands reached up and fisted in her hair, her gaping mouth jerking with the force of her furious clawing and yanking.

The soldiers halted, stared, and then looked to each other in bewilderment. This lasted only for a few moments, because it was quickly replaced by panic.

"Oh my God," said Bobby Drake next to him. "She is phasing _everything _around us."

Pietro's turned slowly, his hands shaking at his sides, as he watched every soldier, every tree, every rock and stick and woodland inhabitant sink into the ground like an acre of quicksand had materialized beneath them.

Men shouted and tugged at their knees, now buried and growing shorter. They clamored at the dirt, trying to dig themselves out, but it was too much, too fast, and they began disappearing beneath the soil to drown in earth.

All the while, Kitty screamed.

Her fingers had left her hair and now shifted down her neck in bloody ribbons. Pietro shook his head to clear it and reached forward to stop her, but he realized with a jolt that he could not move.

"Fuck, Drake. She's phasing us, too!"

He and Bobby looked down to see their legs disappearing into the ground, their forgotten packs already below the surface.

"Shit, make her stop, Maximoff!" Bobby tugged and yanked at his legs, but he could not free them. "Hurry!"

Pietro jumped at Kitty, trying to grab her, but he was too far away. His fingers curled and twirled in the air, trying to reach her hand, but he was trapped and she was inches out of reach.

"PRYDE!" he shouted, trying to get her attention. "Pryde, stop!" He fought harder, trying to break free of his prison, but he was nearly to his hips now and he could feel the crushing weight pressing down on her with every slow, agonizing inch.

"Stop!" he reached for her again, his mind racing. Images flashed through his mind in a dizzying array of her smiles. He fought to give them back to her.

"KITTY!" Pietro cried out.

Her body shifted, just a bit, but it was enough for him to snatch her wrist. He pulled her down on her knees in front of him, wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and brought her forehead to meet his.

"_Stop_," he told her firmly.

Her screams dropped away. Her eyes flickered and shifted, the glazed stare slowing pulling away. Her face hovered so close to his, he could see every click of recognition as it passed through her eyes.

She choked, raspy sputters escaping her as they struggled to become words.

"Oh, God!" she cried out, her face crumbling into ash. "Oh - I'm so - I'm so sor - " Her fingers moved, fighting for coordination, struggling for purchase as she blindly tried to help Pietro out of the ground. Jerky sobs and half-finished apologies turned into full, despairing cries.

"Kitty," Pietro forced his voice to steady. "It's okay, just pull us out - "

"I'm so - I'm so - "

"I know, Kitty, just - " Pietro breathed in deeply. "Kitty, please... "

"I'm so sorry!" she cried out, and for a moment, Pietro wondered if she was seeing him or someone else. They managed to get out of the ground, finally, but when Pietro finally stood, what surrounded him was more devastating than he could have imagined.

An acre of land that had once been forest was now nothing but patchy shrubbery and shallow graves.

Bobby stood next to him, brushing off his pants with weak and trembling hands.

Pietro turned back to Kitty and touched her shoulders. "We have to go," he told her, but she jerked away from him. "We have to go get Angel!" she cried emphatically.

Pietro stared. He swallowed tightly.

"Kitty..."

"We have to go get her!" she screamed. Her voice dropped into a pleading whisper. "We have to go get her, Pietro. She's underground. She'll _suffocate _down there."

Next to him, Bobby Drake slumped to the ground and buried his face in his arms.

Pietro stepped forward, his breathing shaky. "Kitty, she's gone."

"No, she's just down THERE!" Kitty gestured hysterically. "We have to go help her! We have to get her out or she'll suffocate, please, Pietro. She doesn't want to be down there! It's - it's dark and she's afraid, Pietro." Her sobs brought her to her knees.

Pietro steeled himself to snap at her, to order to her to come with him, but instead his words faltered and his gaze dropped.

Never before had he felt such despair as that which he shared with Kitty Pryde in that moment, not for Angel Salvadore, but certainly because of her.

He touched his face. When he dropped his hand, he cast a long look around their bleak surroundings. Without another word, he stepped over and gathered Kitty up, bringing her into his arms and stepping away.

He stopped next to Drake and shifted Kitty into one arm. The other he offered to Drake.

"It's time to go," he murmured.

Slowly, Bobby Drake looked up and took the hand. Pietro supported Kitty with both arms again and they continued on.

* * *

Half a mile to the coast.

* * *

They camped one more night. Maybe because they had grown so used to it, it had come to be a comfort. Pietro wasn't sure anymore.

He and Bobby faced the fire. Kitty Pryde slept between them, fitful even in sleep.

"Drake?"

Pietro looked over at him.

"I don't think I can get us home," he admitted under a wave of self-hate. "I don't know how."

Bobby stared at the flames, cracking a twig in his fingers and tossing it into the fire.

"I figured," he whispered in reply. "Otherwise, you would have been gone a long time ago." The fire crackled and spit. One of the logs in the center cracked under the heat.

"Just promise me one thing," Bobby continued, turning Pietro's way. Pietro raised a brow.

"Promise you won't leave her." He nodded towards Kitty, who struggled in her sleeping bag against the weight of her dreams. Pietro turned away and focused on the cracked log. It simmered and popped from its place in the fire. Smoke curled and twisted from the top.

"I won't," he promised.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry, guys. :/


	12. Standstill

Author's Note:

Hey guys. (: First off, let me say that I am incredibly grateful to my loyal reviewers. I was a bit apprehensive about uploading the last chapter, I'll admit, but I am so very thankful to find that no one was offended or put off by it (at least, so far as I've been told). Thank you guys for understanding the points I was making with the various structures and plot points of this story and forgiving me for the harsh, tragic conditions I've put these characters in.

Froggygrl - Sorry about Angel! It's sad, I know. Casualties of war are not limited to soldiers. :(

TraitorousFreshman15 - I definitely wanted this story to be composed of "grey" areas, so I'm glad that you think Pietro made some valid points. In war, it's always "us" (the good guys) and "them" (the bad guys), no matter what side you're on. An overarching theme of this story is that even if/when war is necessary, it is never a simple thing. And yes, from what we know of the X-Men universe, it does end up getting very, very bad.

SunnyOdd - I'm sorry you're sad! But thank you very much for letting me know that the themes I'm working at are coming across in the story. That means all the world to me. As I mentioned above, I truly believe that the idea of "good" and "bad" sides, while seemingly clear to some, are simply things we can never fully grasp. It seems like Kitty Pryde, who genuinely wants the best for people, should always be seen as good, and yet it doesn't always work out that way... particularly in this story. Thank you for your review. (:

Silver - I'm glad you touched on that about the soldiers. I do not ever want to come across at anti-military (of any kind), and I was afraid that someone might misread it that way, but you understood perfectly. Honestly, Pietro is probably younger in Evo, but I have read/watched so many adaptations of X-Men since then, I am probably just misremembering. However, he is 18 in this story. Also, thank you so much for telling me about your grandmother. I can't imagine being so young during such a turbulent time, but that's what I'm trying to write at this very moment, and it helps for me to remember that people really existed, toiled, and survived during this time. I also want you to know that if I write anything out of place or just plain incorrect concerning German/Polish culture during this story, it's simply the result of ignorance. I am trying very hard though and I'm glad you're reading. Thank you.

Goodness, all that was long. Also, this whole chapter is in Kitty's POV and the line breaks are only for the purposes of scene changes.

* * *

Once, when Kitty was very young, she fell ill and stayed home from school for an entire week. She'd only been ten, but even so, she had been desperately worried about missing school.

She hated being sick.

She begged her mother every day to allow her to return, but of course, she was told to rest and recuperate. So she returned to her bed and slept as often as she could, determined to rejoin her classmates. By the time the week had ended, she felt even worse than before. Her sickness had gone away, but sleep seemed to be working against her. Her limbs hurt, her eye sockets ached, and everything on her felt weighed down. She'd hated that feeling, and she'd hated it even more because she knew she had done it to herself. Humans were not meant to sleep like that, she realized. They weren't meant to feel like that, either.

Kitty shuffled along behind Pietro Maximoff, feeling so like her ten-year-old self.

The city had been further away than they'd believed. The tall steeples and towering buildings that dotted the coast had misled them. Now they were coming close, and with every ambling step, Kitty cared less and less about escape. Words jumbled around in her head, fighting to form coherent thoughts, but the only thing that fell from her lips was the occasional grunt when she stumbled over a rock or a root.

If Pietro hadn't been leading her by the hand, she would have fallen.

Behind her was a beautiful tapestry of Polish countryside. In front of her was a labyrinth of high-reaching, antiquated buildings made of red brick and wrought-iron. This city was not walled, Kitty noticed with disinterest, but it was patrolled by such a thick line of German soldiers that the city itself looked made of them.

"We need Kitty to sneak us past the front," Bobby said nearby. Pietro paused. Kitty nearly ran into him, but he touched her shoulder to stop her. Perhaps she had already done that once or twice.

He turned to her.

"Where do you think we should go in?" he asked her, tilting his head to look at her face. Kitty looked away, blinking slowly at the city. The sea beyond it was dark.

She shrugged.

Bobby sighed from a few feet away. His tone was not irritated, simply exhausted. He was probably upset, Kitty thought mildly.

Pietro turned her face to look back at him again, his fingers at her jaw line.

"Kitty. Come on, think." His fingers grazed her temple, and the strange sensation made her eyes flicker and then close for a moment. She could feel her senses kick just a little, fighting for life, but she didn't have the energy to give them.

She dropped her face into Pietro's chest and said nothing.

He sighed, sounding much like Bobby. Somewhere nearby, a truck rumbled down the road. Kitty felt Pietro stir and put his hands on her arms. "Alright, look. There's only one road coming from this way and it's going into the city. We'll phase into that truck - Pay attention, Kitty - and then phase out before it gets through the checkpoints, okay?"

Kitty tilted her head up, peeking at Bobby, who was looking at her skeptically.

"I don't know, Maximoff. Kitty's not exactly... "

"She can do it," he said immediately, his tone biting. He shifted back to her. Kitty's only visible eye looked up at him, her cheek pressed against the fabric of his shirt.

"Right?"

Kitty blinked at him a few times, her face rustling against him as she felt his hands up her arms to sit on her shoulders. His fingers brushed the back of her neck.

Her voice hurt to use.

"Right," she whispered.

* * *

Some part of Kitty woke up again when the cargo truck bumped and bounced into the perimeter of the city. Perhaps it was the sound of men shouting, tossing things about, rustling papers as they checked this or that. Maybe it was the clink of guns as they shifted on their owners shoulders or the less ominous roll of the nearby water as it lapped against the concrete barriers that lined the city coast. Kitty peered out of one of the gaps between the tarp that lay over the back of the truck.

Buildings came into view and then disappeared again. The map had called this place _Gdańsk_, but the glaring red posters that kept flashing by read firmly:

_DANZIG IST DEUTSCHE_.

- a golden swastika emblazoned the top right corner. Nazi presence permeated this place like an infection, filling every nook and cranny with constant reminders of its tragic symptoms.

The truck rolled to a stop. Soldiers moved to check the cargo for clearance. Kitty reached up, moving of her own accord for the first time in nearly two days. She grasped the boys' hands and dropped them through the bottom.

They re-emerged around the corner of a shop inside the city just ten or so feet away from where uniformed men inspected the now deserted truck space. Kitty straightened slowly, her back against a wall of crumbling brick. Bobby shifted his jacket.

"We're going to have to abandon our packs. They'll look suspicious," he pointed out. The others nodded and shed them, carrying only what they could in their coat pockets. Kitty buried the packs in the ground. When she straightened once more, Pietro was in front of her.

"Put your hat on," he told her, sitting it on her head and then tucking her brunette hair behind her ears. Kitty tilted her face up at him, her face lax and expressionless. He frowned down at her and slowly let his hands drop.

"I'm ready to go home," Kitty murmured hoarsely, brown eyes glassy.

She tried to register the peculiar look that passed over Pietro's face, but her mind was not up to investigation and, as always, he offered no explanation.

"I know," he said softly. "Just hold on to me," he glanced over his shoulder at the crowds of people that flooded the streets of Gdańsk. "And if we get separated, just hide. I'll come and find you."

Kitty nodded and let him take her hand again. The three of them moved into the streets. It wasn't difficult to blend in. People of all sorts of shapes, sizes, and classes mixed together in the streets, but there were nearly as many soldiers as civilians. The extermination had already happened here, Kitty knew. This city had once housed a Jewish population of almost three thousand.

Now, posters on the walls of city businesses promised a one way trip to Stutthof for any who harbored Jews. A spark of rage bubbled in Kitty's chest as Pietro tugged her past.

It made her feel alive to hate them. She feared that.

People bumped into them, some glanced their way, but most others ignored them. Pietro kept his head low, his eyes hidden under the brim of his hat. Kitty stumbled along behind him, trying not to lose her footing. Above them, a tall clock chimed.

They turned corner after corner. The city was a maze of streets blocked by people, streetcars, and horse-drawn carriages. The people here were like those in Warsaw in the sense that they moved about their everyday tasks in a tense, fervent way. They moved down sidewalks with their children tucked closely at their sides, their carts brimming full because they do not want to journey more often than necessary.

Evidence of battle decorated the landscape. Chapel walls had shattered stone instead of stained-glass windows. A schoolyard had lost a swing set to a bomb. Some houses lacked whole walls or roofs. Bullets remained embedded in the streets, light poles, and sidewalks.

There was no fighting here, though. Not now. German roots had settled deeply.

Water came into view. Kitty's heart leapt, just a little, to see the massive barges that rolled through the inky blank currents. These ships would not be going to Allied territory, but the neutral country of Sweden lay just across the channel. Thousands of Jewish people had taken refuge there since the start of the German occupation. It was there that Kitty and the others would be safe.

Some desperate part of Kitty determined that she was going to get on that boat if she had to kill every soldier in sight. It was an unwelcome mental image that she could not push away.

She glanced up, away from the boats, just long enough to scan the area. Her eyebrows furrowed as she glanced on another poster, and then one just like it a few feet away. They were not the propoganda posters from before. These had illustrations on them. Faces.

"Pietro," she said, tugging on their joined hands. He hushed her, fighting hard to weave them through the crowds of people. She tugged on him again.

"Pietro!" she hissed, trying to catch up with him so she could point. "Pietro, look! Pietro!"

"Not now!" he whispered harshly, yanking her to his side. "Now be quiet - "

In front of them, somewhere in the crowd, someone screamed. A gun fired. The people around them stopped, shuffled, and then another gunshot sent them into chaos.

Kitty shrieked when someone ran into her and knocked her to the ground. Overhead, she saw a Nazi officer standing high on a platform, his fist curled around the collar of the fresh corpse of a young man.

"_Das ist das Gesicht eines Verräters! Danzig ist deutsch! All diejenigen, die die Juden beherbergen, wird bestraft_!"

He tossed the body in the water. A woman screamed and scrambled at the railing, trying to reach the body, but another gunshot echoed over the shouts and screams and then she, too, was dumped carelessly into the sea.

"_VERRÄTER_!"

Kitty cried out softly and then jumped up, fighting and pushing her way through the crowd.

"PIETRO!" she shouted, twirling desperately in the midst of the chaos. "BOBBY!"

Everyone and everything around her was a blur. People shouted, shoved, and cried out for their loved ones as they clamored for the safety of their homes. Others on the docks and surrounding ports hurried to get away as more traitors were brought forth, all made into gruesome examples of totalitarian leadership.

The Nazi soldier did nothing to calm the crowd. The panic was his intended effect and his message was clear: do not harbor Jews.

Tears filled Kitty's eyes as she looked, jumped, and shouted for the boys, but they had both disappeared into the multitude of people around them. Her heart pounded, her limbs protested, and her shoes finally split around her feet. She left the pieces of them behind in the street and ran worn skin over gritty gravel.

Alone, she fell to her knees on the sidewalk and heaved, trying not to panic.

"Pietro!" she called again, looking all around, but the faces all blurred together and her overburdened mind couldn't make sense of them. In the fray, she had lost her hat as well. Her dirty hair curtained her face in stringy rivets. She sobbed, unwilling to run anymore.

"_Dziewczyna_!"

Kitty looked up, sobs racking her body. An elderly man peered at her from the corner of a barbershop, his bushy brows furrowed with concern. He quickly looked both ways and beckoned.

Kitty sniffed and peered at him, her eyes looking all around. She pointed to herself. "Me?" she asked, her throat dry.

"_Tak! Chodź tu, szybko_!"

The words were Polish and didn't mean much to Kitty, but she got the hint. She hurried up, falling over her bare feet, and jumped through the doorway of his shop. The man quickly closed his blinds and ushered her in.

Kitty breathed in shakily, tears still flooding down her face.

"I - I don't know what to do," she told the man, crying again when she realized he wouldn't understand her. She buried her unwashed face in her tired, aching hands and fought to remain standing.

The man shushed her, his hands coming up and dragging hers away. He pointed to the outside and shook his head. He led her gently by the hand to the wall behind one of his barber chairs and held up a hand for her to wait. Then he quickly moved the chair aside and opened a well-hidden door. He beckoned.

Kitty's eyes widened. "You - You're hiding me?" she asked. Outside the shop, people continued to shout. Gunshots echoed behind each execution on the waterfront.

The man reached for her hands again and squeezed them gently, giving them a little shake.

The barrier between their languages melted away and the transcending nature of human emotion took its place. Kitty did not need his words to know that he meant to keep her safe. He did not need her words to know that she was overwhelmed with gratitude.

Kitty quickly took the steps revealed by the secret door and dropped down into the dark hole. The man peered down at her, his finger at his lips in a hushed motion, before he slowly slid the lid over Kitty's anxious face and eclipsed her in total darkness.

* * *

Above her, the barberchair scraped back into place over the hidden door.

Kitty slowly looked back down and reached out, feeling the wooden walls that surrounded the narrow stairway. Taking small, careful steps, Kitty edged down the staircase until her bare feet hid a tightly packed dirt floor. She swallowed, wishing she had a light.

She kept walking until the felt the corridor widen a bit, just enough for her to stretch her arms out fully. And then, at the very end, she saw a tiny light. At first, she thought her eyes were deceiving her. It was so dim and small, close to the floor and just barely making it around the edge of a low, empty doorway.

Kitty crept closer. Somewhere, in the back of her frazzled mind, she wondered if she had actually died outside and was now coming to meet her maker.

However, when she slipped through the opening, her eyes did not immediately fall on the light, but what it illuminated.

A family of five.

Kitty's heart burst into life in a terrific symphony of anguish and pity.

A couple in their mid-thirties, dressed in simple clothing, sat huddled on a low cot. It was the only bed in the tiny room, which held no other furniture, and no other light save for the lantern on the floor. The woman, who looked up at Kitty with unveiled fear, was holding a sleeping toddler. On the floor, a boy of about six and a girl of about ten sat playing jacks.

The man stood slowly and regarded Kitty with suspicion, but before he could say anything, the barber man from above hurried in. He spoke to the younger man quietly in Polish, pointing to Kitty and then patting her shoulder.

Kitty gave a weak smile, hoping to reassure the anxious family. The children had stopped playing and were now looking up at her curiously.

Kitty turned to the barber who had saved her life.

"Thank you," she whispered shakily, touching her clasped hands to her heart. He smiled at her and touched the top of her head tenderly. Then he gestured between her and the family and nodded, putting his hands together.

Kitty didn't understand until the man of the family stepped forward and offered her a hand, his expression more sympathetic.

"_Jüdisch?_" he asked.

Kitty looked over his family once more, their faces pale and sallow from a life underground. She looked back to the man and took his extended hand, shaking it with a nod.

"_Jüdisch_," she confirmed softly.

* * *

When the noise and disruption of the public finally ebbed away, Kitty's first thought had been to rejoin the streets and find her friends. But when she had made the motion to leave, the barber had shook his head and waved his arms.

Kitty sighed deeply.

"I need to find my friends," she pleaded with him. He seemed to understand, he must have seen them, but he still shook his head at her and pointed to himself. Kitty's shoulders slumped and she nodded. He would look for them.

* * *

She could have left anyway. For the first two days, she considered it. The barber still had not seen Pietro or Bobby, even now that the city had resumed its "normal" pace. They could be hiding. Or they could be dead. One of those gunshots she'd heard could have been the one that ended their lives.

Kitty pushed those thoughts away. They wouldn't have gotten caught.

So where the hell were they?

The thought of sneaking away from her hiding place to search them made less and less sense as her mind cleared. She did not know this city. She did not have any supplies and she looked awfully out of place in her ragged clothes. She could only phase underground for so long before she would have to come up for air, and someone might see her.

_And if we get separated, just hide. I'll come and find you. _

Pietro's words echoed time and time again in her head. Kitty settled against the wall of the small hidden room and waited. She waved off any attempt of the barber's to give her clothes and food. She would not take anything away from the family, who was already surviving on so little.

No, she would wait.

So she did.

* * *

A week later, she finally accepted the offer of clothes. After she changed into the blue cotton dress and plain brown shoes, she sat down on the floor with the family of five and ate her first full meal in days.

* * *

During the day, Kitty and the others listened to the sound of footsteps overhead. All day customers came in and out. For the first week, they all sounded the same.

By the third week, Kitty had begun to recognize the different clicks, thuds, and stomps. It was easy enough to tell a lady's delicate shoes from a worker's clomping steps, but a soldier's boots were by far the most distinct. German soldiers entered, asked questions, checked on things, and then left. It happened almost every day, probably in every shop.

They kept the entire city under lock and key.

At first, when Kitty had heard their thundering footfalls, she had always grown nervous. But they seemed to have no suspicions, no obligation to be there other than work rotation and the occasional haircut.

* * *

The older children's names were Anatol and Elzbieta.

Anatol taught Kitty to play jacks. Elzbieta shared a pencil and a piece of paper with Kitty, who returned the favor by teaching them both card games. The deck Angel had discovered weeks ago had been stashed in Kitty's coat pocket, a final gift from her late friend.

The wife, Mila, seemed glad for Kitty's company. When she was not caring for the toddler, she took the time to teach Kitty Polish.

The days wore on. Kitty scratched each one into the wood near her personal bed of two blankets on the floor.

* * *

Even though they had only rare glimpses of lighting through the cracks of the floor, Kitty always knew when night fell. It was when the footsteps faded overhead, when the barber came by to give them their basket of food that he most likely took from his own table, and when the family Kitty was coming to know so well would all curl up on the tiny bed together and read from their one picture book.

Kitty always gave them that time alone.

She sat out in the hallway, near the staircase, and leaned against the wall with her knees curled against her chest.

With her one piece of paper gifted to her by Elzbieta, Kitty illustrated a quote she remembered from a school text last year. Her pencil crushed into the paper as she traced the letters over and over and over again, each of them becoming darker and grittier with every turn.

Kitty wrote them time and time again, illustrating the corners of the letters and turning them into languid, looping pictures that encircled the text and lifted it from the page.

Some of the words were smudged where the lead had mixed with tears.

_**Night is purer than day **_

Kitty sniffed and traced the letters again, silent tears running their well-traveled course.

_**It is better for thinking and loving and dreaming. At night, everything is more intense, more true. **_

Her mind raced, remember all the nights she had seen and spoken to Pietro Maximoff. Images of him flashed in her mind, seated next to her in that living room, across from her at the campfire, next to her at a tree.

Glaring, smiling, laughing, frowning, worrying, yelling, fighting.

His face, his voice, his touch, all flashed over her under the background of a dark night sky, the only time he had seen fit to open himself to her and break through her understanding of who and what he might be.

_**The echo of words that have been spoken during the day takes on a newer and deeper meaning. **_

Her hands trembled, but she wrote on. It hurt to breathe.

_**The tragedy of man is that he doesn't know how to distinguish between day and night.**_

Kitty fought to stifle her sobs.

_What about you, Pryde?_

_You can do this._

_Just take my hand._  
_Doesn't matter now, does it?_  
_Nothing worth repeating._  
_You're a nerd._  
_Stay close._  
_We see the stars every night._  
_Kitty!_  
_It's okay._  
_She's gone._  
_It's time to go._

_I won't._

Kitty's entire body rattled with the force of her sobs, forcing her to fall over to her side and curl into the comfort of her own empty arms.

* * *

"_Nazywam się Kitty_," Mila said slowly.

"Nazywam się Kitty," Kitty repeated, pointing to herself. Mila nodded proudly, and Kitty let herself have just one small smile to keep.

* * *

When she had learned enough Polish, Kitty finally asked the barber, in broken words and phrases, why he was sheltering them.

He gave her a terribly sad look and spoke just two words, but Kitty did not recognize them. When she told them to Mila, the other woman indicated herself and then her husband.

_My wife,_ he had said.

* * *

Kitty scratched another day off next to her pile of blankets.

Forty-six.

* * *

Author's Note: God, my own story makes me sad. Kitty's quote is from _Dawn_ by Elie Wiesel.


	13. Tempo

Author's Note:

I thought I'd get this chapter out before I go to DragonCon this weekend. Enjoy. (:

kp290 - I'm always so excited to have a new reviewer! Thank you so much for your thoughts. I had no idea about Bobby's parentage. Unfortunately, it's too late for me to include it in this story, but I will definitely keep that in mind if I write another story with his character. I love character background, though, so I'm glad you told me! Sorry for the heartbreak. :/ Sometimes I have to go watch something happy after writing this fic.

Silver - This chapter should clear a few things up. Your excited questions made me laugh. :D

TraitorousFreshmen15 - Pietro's always crazy. :P This chapter doesn't skip the feels, either, so bring a snorkel! (Yes, I just made a dad joke.)

SunnyOdd - This may sound silly, but the adjective _incredible _seriously put a smile on my face. Thank you! I'm glad you like my characterization of Kitty. One of the things that I enjoy about writing her is that she is a person puts everything she has into what she does. It's so much fun to write.

* * *

Kitty scrubbed the dish with a rough sponge. It still wasn't coming clean. Exasperated, she set it aside and leaned against the dusty wall behind her. It was hard work living without a proper facilities. Forget a dishwasher. She'd just love a sink.

But, unfortunately, she and the others had been relegated to a bucket to wash their empty plates. Even if the barber (Janek) had been able to hook up indoor plumbing for them down in their hiding space, they wouldn't have been able to use it during the day. It would cause too much noise, and any attention was too much attention. During the day, they had to move as little as possible and keep their voices at a whisper.

Fortunately, the shop above was always bustling with noise and activity. However, that meant that others were nearby at all times until the door closed behind the last customer of the day.

Elzbieta stooped in front of her and took the plate from her hand with a smile.

Kitty's lips lifted a little as Elzbieta settled down in front of her and began scrubbing furiously at the dish, her tongue sticking out to the side.

"Thank you," Kitty said in her careful Polish. Elzbieta set the dish aside when it was clean, and Kitty couldn't help but notice how pretty she was for a ten year old. She'd break hearts one day.

If she outlived this war, of course. The thought came unbidden to Kitty.

"Kitty," Elzbieta said, rubbing her raw hands on her yellow dress. "I'm glad you're here. You remind me of the girls I went to school with. They were bigger than me and I always wanted to be like them."

Kitty laughed softly. "You're wonderful the way you are," she said to Elzbieta. "I promise, one day there will be little girls looking up to you and thinking the same."

Elzbieta tucked her hand under her chin. "Do you believe so?"

"I do," Kitty promised, touching the girl's head.

"Kitty," Elzbieta said again, in the same innocent tone. "Why do you cry so much?"

Kitty's hand dropped away. She fought to keep her expression straight, even as the little girl stared at her with wide eyes framed by braided pigtails. Elzbieta and her family had been in hiding for almost nine months. They had abandoned their home, their belongings, and their jobs to get away from the web of concentration camps that surrounded them.

Elzbieta had likely lost all her possessions, friends, and perhaps even her family outside of those Kitty knew. And yet here she sat, genuinely curious, asking why Kitty tucked away from the others nearly every night and cried for hours.

Kitty wasn't sure when she'd gotten to the point in her life where she marveled at the tenacity of children, but she envied the coping skills of this little girl so much it burned her heart.

"I'm sad," Kitty choked out finally. Even the most complex feelings circled back to the most basic of human sensations.

Elzbieta, all of ten, reached over and patted Kitty's shoulder.

"I am sad, too, Kitty," she said sympathetically.

* * *

The toddler grew cranky one day and then worse than the next. Kitty and others tended to him the best they could, but eventually the child became feverish.

"He needs to see a doctor," Kitty told Mira in Polish, but the other woman simply shook her head and rocked the uncomfortable three year old. They could not leave for a doctor and they could not trust one to come to them.

It went on this way for a week.

On the day Kitty marked fifty-two over her bed, the toddler finally fell into a restless sleep.

On day fifty-three, he refused to wake.

He was buried on day fifty-five, but neither of his parents could be there to see it. Janek returned with three carefully selected flowers to mark his three years of life.

* * *

Mira fought to keep the flowers alive, but they died without sunlight.

* * *

"_Who has inflicted this upon us? Who has made us Jews different from all other people? Who has allowed us to suffer so terribly up till now? ._

_... If we bear all this suffering and if there are still Jews left, when it is over, then Jews, instead of being doomed, will be held up as an example. _

_Who knows, it might even be our religion from which the world and all peoples learn good, and for that reason and that reason alone do we have to suffer now."_

_- Anne Frank _

* * *

Kitty's eyes popped open.

Slowly, she lifted her head from her pile of blankets. Only the barest hint of light flickered in the lantern next to her, illuminating only a small circle where she slept.

She listed carefully. It was late. The shop was closed and Janek and the others were long asleep. And yet..

There it was again. Some sort of noise from above. Kitty sat all the way up, her eyebrows furrowed. Suddenly, the noise changed. The front door to the shop creaked open and then shut again with a click.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

Kitty's blood ran cold at the familiar thump of soldier's boots. Her trembling fingers curled in her blankets as she followed the footsteps with her eyes cast upwards.

The footsteps moved across the floor, just above Kitty's head, and echoed through the empty shop. Janek was asleep somewhere above it, in his own loft. Kitty exhaled shakily and stood in her spot, fighting to keep silent.

It sounded like a lone soldier. Kitty swallowed tightly.

_Please, please, please. Just go away. Go away, just go away and leave us alone. God, please. _

The footsteps turned and walked in a circle. Then they stopped, just next to the barber chair that covered their hidden door. A moment later, the unmistakable sound of the chair being pushed aside crawled into Kitty's brain.

_I've got to get out of here_, Kitty thought wildly. She could just phase away; that soldier would never know.

One look at the makeshift bedroom behind her steeled her resolve.

_No_, she thought firmly. She could get away, but the family was still in there. Kitty sucked in a deep breath and turned her watery glare on to the staircase, her decision made.

Silently, she moved to their washbucket and pulled out the knife she'd used at dinner. It was an unimpressive thing, barely good for cutting cooked meat, but it was the best weapon she had. She stooped low and moved under the staircase, her shoulders tense.

_Come and get it, you son of a bitch._

The door at the top of the stairs moved with a rustle and the footsteps followed with one thud after another. They paused, for just a moment, the unseen assailant probably spotting Kitty's blankets and light.

From under the staircase, all Kitty could see was the tips of his uniform slacks and the military-issue boots. Her fingers curled tightly over the knife. A feral sort of anger built up inside of her, threatening to burst.

The man moved again, dropping down each step until he reached the bottom. Kitty slowly moved out from under the staircase, her eyes finding the dim form of him from behind. For a moment, she felt a spike of fear. He was not facing her, but there was no mistaking the dark S.S. uniform, the jingle of medals, or the sharply shaped hat that sat on his head.

He wasn't just a soldier. He was an officer.

Kitty's lip curled into a snarl. She would cut his fucking throat before he got to that family.

Creeping out of her hiding space, Kitty straightened slowly. The man continued to walk in front of her for six or so steps before he came to a quick stop. Kitty froze behind him, her blade raised. There was a long pause, and then the officer spoke.

"You going to stab me, Pryde?"

* * *

Pietro Maximoff turned carefully, his silver eyes taking in the sight of Kitty Pryde in front of him, trembling hands gripping a kitchen knife.

It clattered to the floor.

"And after I've spent all this time looking for you.." he teased, his voice catching in a hiccup of emotion at the sight of her Kitty's rapidly crumbling expression. She staggered, and god damn, she looked so thin and waifish.

Pietro reached up and lifted his hat, silver hair falling down next to his face. He dropped it to the side.

At first, he thought she was too stricken to move.

Before he knew what was happening, Kitty dashed across the floor and jumped high in arms, her welcome embrace curling around every part of him in an instant.

She whispered his name just one time before crashing her lips to his.

Pietro's mind swam with visions of past, present, and what he hoped to God was the future. Tightening his arms around her, Pietro pulled up his fingers and curled them in her hair, his mouth responding to hers in a spark of passion that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in place of desperate, pleading hope.

Kitty exhaled against his mouth with a soft cry. Her tears trickled down and fell on his neck.

Pietro loosened his arms just enough to let Kitty drop down the length of his body to the ground, but he never pulled away from her, only drawing her deeper and closer.

His hand moved from the back of her head to cup her cheek, his fingers spread over her neck. He gripped her close, his fingers clenched desperately in the fabric of her dress, because some hazy part of his mind was certain she would melt away from his arms and all of this would simply be a crazed dream.

His mouth moved over hers with a concentrated sort of turmoil that could only come from feeling so very many things at once.

When they finally pulled away, their faces stayed close.

Kitty's watery brown eyes turned up to his.

"What - What's going - What're you doing here?" she whispered finally, her fingers reaching up to curl at his jaw line. Pietro gave a shaky chuckle.

"Looking for you," he said with a bit of a smirk, his fingers moving softly through the hairs at the back of her neck. "I've been searching ever since we got separated, but there are soldiers everywhere... I've been sleeping on rooftops to keep from being spotted."

Kitty tucked her face into his neck and shuddered. Pietro leaned against the wall, his chin on top of her head. His arms encircled her like a snare.

He felt every breath she took against him. His heart pounded.

She tried to speak several times before her thoughts formed properly.

"Why are you _wearing _this?" she asked finally, her fingers touching the heavy, dark fabric of his uniform coat. Pietro glanced down and touched the stiff pockets. "This place is crawling with soldiers.." he whispered to her. "But not many who would dare stop an S.S. officer to ask questions." Her lips curled in a frown. "It's terrible," she told him plaintively.

Pietro tilted his face towards hers. "I can take it off if you want," he smirked. Kitty's teary gaze lightened for just a moment and she might have laughed, but it fell away under a fresh wave of stress. Kitty traced the name tag.

"Where's the real officer?"

Pietro brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, painfully unwilling to let anything bother her.

"Dead." His tone was unrepentant.

When he realized that Kitty seemed to have no interest in remorse or reparations for his deed, he frowned and turned her face up to his.

The desire to get her out of this place nearly brought him to his knees. He brushed his thumb over her cheek before pressing his lips to hers again. This time, his movements were languid and soothing in ways he wasn't sure he knew how to be.

* * *

They sat together against the wall.

Kitty pulled up her blanket to her shoulders and then turned, tucking the corners around Pietro's shoulders as well. His uniform jacket and white button up lay over the side of the staircase, leaving only the cotton t-shirt and slacks.

She pressed her cheek against the soft warm fabric over his shoulder and reveled in the comfort that only another human could bring. Underneath the blanket, his arms wrapped around her huddled form.

"We can leave in the morning," he told her. She glanced up at him. When he turned his head, her lips brushed his jaw. "But we have to wait until then. That's when we can get Drake."

Kitty's chest felt lighter than day itself.

"You know where he is? He's okay?"

"Yeah, he's being sheltered by a family on the west side of town," Pietro's lips flickered at a smile. "Believe it or not, there are still a lot of people hiding here." He shook his head. "But we can't afford to do the same. We need to get out."

Kitty nodded and dropped her gaze for a moment.

"When we came into town, I tried to tell you - "

"I know, I saw them..." Pietro's face fell into the shape of one much older than eighteen years. "They're looking for us. Us, specifically." Kitty sighed softly and let her head fall to his shoulder again. The images of their faces painstakingly sketched on posters flashed in her mind.

Warrants for their arrests, courtesy of the Nazi party.

"I don't understand," she admitted. "How could they be looking for us? We've killed every single person who saw us use our powers."

Pietro moved his hand up her arm, his eyes briefly turned away from hers.

"No, we didn't."

Kitty frowned, confused. "But - Who - "

The image of a frightened woman flashed in her mind. Her stomach turned. The sort of weight that can only come from making a very grave mistake flooded into her system.

"Oh, Pietro - "

"It's okay, Kitty," he shushed her immediately, turning his body towards hers. Kitty fought to keep her voice down.

"No, it's not. Oh my God, I - "

"_Hey_," Pietro cupped her face with both of his hands. "We're fine. Look at me - tomorrow, we will grab Drake, get the hell out of here, and then we will get somewhere safe so we can go home. Do you understand?"

Kitty nodded tearfully and then tucked into him again. Silence fell between them, allowing them both to relax into a rare moment of comfort.

When Pietro spoke, Kitty had to pull her senses away from the dulled state of near sleep.

"Do you want to know something?"

She blinked up at him, her fingers curled at his stomach.

"The reason I ran so fast in the cafeteria that day... the whole fucking reason that I brought us here," he said in a strangely distant murmur, his eyes looking away at the darkness. " .. is because I was afraid." He looked back down at her. "Not just afraid. _Terrified_."

Kitty watched his face carefully.

"What were you afraid of?" Her voice was quiet.

Pietro shifted against her and looked away again. "Being trapped," he admitted, his brows deeply furrowed. He was quiet for a moment before continuing. "You know my sister was in a mental hospital when I got to Bayville, right?"

Kitty tilted her head, confused. "Yeah," she said softly.

"Well, up until that point, we had always been together. But the first thing Magneto did when he found us was lock her away." Pietro frowned deeply, his fingers curling at Kitty's elbows. "I should have stopped him, but Wanda was so .. gone. There was nothing I could say to calm her anymore. So I let her go, even when she was screaming at me to help her."

Kitty brushed a fingertip over his arm and let him continue.

"Once she had been in there for a few weeks, I started feeling guilty. I thought maybe she'd already gotten better, maybe she would be okay. So I went back for her. I sneaked away from Magneto and ran back to the hospital." His silver eyes flickered over something in the dark corner, something Kitty couldn't see.

"But I got caught. I don't remember how, maybe it was something Wanda did. Anyway, they figured out I was like her. Something different. So they locked me away too, in a tiny little room just like hers."

Pietro's grip tightened on Kitty's arm.

"Magneto knew where I was, but he left me there as punishment. I had to stay in that room for almost four months, never leaving or speaking to anyone. I was completely alone in an eight by eight space for all that time." He chuckled bitterly. "He finally came and got me and we left Wanda behind. I never went back for her after that."

His gaze dropped.

"Four months and I was traumatized. Wanda stayed in that place for _years._"

Kitty bit her lip, the tears she'd thought run dry threatening to spill over at the sight of Pietro's twisted expression.

"Ever since then, I've been - fucking _insane _at the idea of having being trapped, locked up." His grip on her loosened a little, his body relaxing. He reached up a hand to push his hair back from his face. It was longer than Kitty had ever seen it.

"Did you ever tell her?"

Pietro lifted his eyes, his mouth pursed. "Tell who what?"

Kitty reached up with a single digit and drew his face towards hers. "Did you ever tell Wanda that you went back for her?"

Pietro's eyes flickered and moved away. "I - No, I don't think so." His expression crumpled, equal parts angry and contrite.

"But it doesn't matter. It doesn't make it any less wrong that I left her."

Kitty moved up, bringing both arms out of the blanket and wrapping them around Pietro's neck. She drew him close and spoke in a low whisper.

"Not everything is right or wrong, Pietro."

* * *

Just before dawn, Kitty folded up her blankets, extinguished her light, and left a carefully worded note in Polish.

Pietro fished out a wad of bills from the pocket of his uniform coat and placed it on top of the note. It would be enough to feed the family and the barber for over a month.

He offered a hand to Kitty.

"Let's get Drake and head the fuck out."

"Agreed," Kitty accepted his hand, cast a last look at the room where the family slept, and then phased them both away.

* * *

Author's Note: Short chapter, but hey, reunited. (:


	14. Stint

Author's Note:

I can't keep away from the stories. New reviewers make me so excited. (:

Froggygrl - I hated having them separated too, believe me! So much lost banter, so much lost fluff.

TraitorousFreshman15 - The feels will just keep on coming, so prepare yourself, you crazy freshman! :D

SunnyOdd - Thank you so much! I seriously blushed when I read your review. I'm glad that this story is having its intended impact (even when that intended impact is severe sadness). I'm also glad that the kiss felt natural. I feel like it wouldn't have been the same in any other scene.

Noony - Thank you new reviewer! I appreciate you taking the time to leave me a comment and it makes me very proud that you're enjoying the story. Heartbreak, though, is definitely going to continue to be a part of it..

ThatGuy - I really, really appreciate your review and you saying that this fic deserves more of them. Even though I would write this for a single person so long as they enjoyed it, the positive reviews certainly help. Thank you again! And you'll just have to wait and see about Bobby.. ;)

* * *

Dawn peeked over the horizon.

Kitty kept up a mental pep talk in her head. _We're going to get Bobby. We're getting out of here. They can't have us. We won't let them. _

_Home. Home. Home. _

Pietro walked next to her, dressed only in his nondescript white button-up and slacks. He'd left the uniform jacket and hat behind.

Kitty tugged on her worn cotton dress and fought to keep her fingers still. Even the hand clasped in Pietro's jumped and twitched with nerves.

"Drake is on the west side of town," Pietro murmured to her, his head bent low. Around them, the streets were filled with the quiet of early morning. The main streets were still home to the routine shuffles of soldiers on patrol, but she and Pietro kept close to alleyways and brick walls to avoid them.

They turned away from the main part of town, in the direct Pietro had pointed, but a booming electrical whir suddenly stopped them.

Kitty and Pietro exchanged wide-eyed glances.

"What was that?" she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. Pietro peered between two shops, trying to peek at the main street they'd just left behind.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, edging around the corner. The backs of soldiers, far down the street, met his view. They were in a wide circle, with villagers slowly making their way out homes and shops to see what the commotion was about.

Moments later, Kitty and Pietro crawled up a low shop roof from behind and peeked at the street below.

"Fuck," Pietro hissed next to her.

On the street, bathed in the pink light of morning, Bobby Drake crouched on his knees with his hands tied and his head bowed. Soldiers surrounded him at all sides, guns ready and bodies stiff. Polish citizens watched on from a safe distance. Even the soldiers seemed to be giving Bobby an unusually wide berth.

All save for one man.

Kitty watched as he emerged from the circle of soldiers and walked around Bobby, his motions ambling and unhurried. He wasn't wearing a military uniform, but a finely tailored suit. Something about the calm smile on his face sent chills down Kitty's spine.

"Tell me, American." His words were gruff, accented English. "Where are they?"

Kitty fought to suppress a squeak as Bobby lifted his head to glare at the man. Everything on her friend was a mosaic of purple, red, and green bruises. One of his eyes was swollen shut.

Pietro clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her whimper and she had to drop her eyes to avoid reacting.

Down below, Bobby stayed silent.

"Still silent?" the man asked, his tone almost thoughtful. He tapped his chin. "Interesting." He turned and beckoned to a soldier with two fingers. Without a word, the soldier stepped forward and rammed the butt of his gun into Bobby's shoulder, making him cry out and drop in to the dirt.

Kitty's eyes filled with hot, angry tears. _Those sorry bastards! _

But on the street, Bobby wasn't having any of it. Instead of protesting against the soldiers, he pushed himself up with a great deal of effort. When he was upright again, he settled the man with a smirk.

"Where.. are .. your friends, American?" the man in the suit asked again, the first sign of irritation creeping in to his tone. It seemed as though they had been going this route a while.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and leaned back as far as his bent knees would let him.

"_Fuck. Your. Mother_," he said to the sky, his split lip quirking in a smirk.

Next to her, Pietro Maximoff chuckled quietly. "Oh, yeah. I'll save him," he whispered. "I'll save him just for that." He turned to Kitty. "Alright, here's the plan. I can't carry you both, so I need you to jump down from here and phase him through the ground. Come up over there - " he pointed, " - while I clear a path to the east." He motioned to the line of soldiers and trucks on the edge of town. "Once you're there, I'll grab him and run off. You phase underground again and meet me in that corner of forest there. They shouldn't be able to track us from there."

Kitty followed his gaze and nodded. "Got it," she said firmly. Her eyes turned back to Pietro for a moment and they exchanged a brief, meaningful look. "I'll see you soon," she promised him, squeezing his hand.

"Yeah," he murmured with a roll of his eyes and looking out at the street again with a smirk. "I've already planned on being stuck with you for a while."

Kitty's lips twitched at a smile. She counted.

"Three... two ... one.. "

They jumped.

* * *

It struck him before he even hit the ground.

Electricity locked his knees, shocked his spine, jerked back his head and seized every available inch of muscle in his body all before he crashed in to the asphalt in a heap of twitching, twisting limbs. It crackled all around them, driving the three teenagers to the ground.

"AGH!" Off to his side, Bobby and Kitty shrieked and cried out, writhing on the street.

Everything on him burned and jerked, pushing up through his chest and forcing out a scream he'd never heard before. Around them, soldiers watched with drawn guns as the mutants jumped and jerked under the volts of the electrical sand trap.

The man in the suit watched as well, unsurprised and unmoving.

Pietro grappled at the ground and tried to get up, but his body revolted and threw him down again. But next to him, Bobby Drake pushed himself up and, in a flourish of motion, tossed out his arms with a yell.

The ground rocked beneath them and suddenly ice blasted the soldiers back, carpeting the street and everything around it, including the electrical wires that trapped them. Pietro gasped out loud, rolling on to his stomach and blinking to clear his vision. His body seized again with trembles, but he managed to push himself up.

He immediately ran for Kitty, the shouts of soldiers sounding behind him as they scrambled to free themselves and their weapons from the ice.

"Kit - Kitty!" Pietro dropped down next to her and fought to pick her up, but the after effects of the shocks continued rocking her body with painful twists and jolts. She cried out, face streaked with tears, and Pietro had no choice but to tighten his grip around her and force her up.

"Let's go!" he shouted to Drake, who appeared beside him suddenly. The three of them shot down the street and past the frozen barricade. Soldiers were freeing themselves as they fled, jumping in to trucks behind them.

Bobby Drake slid to a stop.

"Keep going, I'll hold them off!"

Pietro growled. "Damn it, Drake, just come on!"

"You won't make it if I don't slow them down!" Bobby shouted, his eyes fierce and his fists clenched. Pietro staggered towards him, and something in his tone shifted between angry and distraught.

"KITTY WILL NEVER FUCKING FORGIVE ME IF I LEAVE YOU HERE!"

Bobby stared at him, his chest heaving with great effort.

"They won't kill me," he said, his tone lofty and _almost _convincing. Pietro shook his head, his teeth clenched tightly. "Just come back for me later, yeah?"

Pietro looked at Bobby for a long moment. Then he shifted Kitty in his arms and extended a hand to Bobby.

The other teen took it and gave it one firm shake. They nodded at each other just once more and the Pietro was gone.

* * *

_"Magneto?"_

_The grey-haired man glanced up, his expression shifting from thoughtful to annoyed. He often looked at Pietro that way. _

_"Yes?" Magneto asked, when Pietro fell silent. The boy shuffled, uncomfortable without his twin by his side. _

_"Are you our father?" _

_The man behind the desk peered at him, his fingers folded. "Were you listening to my conversation earlier, Pietro?" _

_The boy shrugged, sliding his hands in to his jean pockets. _

_"I just - kind of overheard." _

_Magneto leaned back in his chair and studied the boy in front of him. "Yes," he said finally. "It would seem I am." Pietro glanced up, his brows furrowed. For the millionth time, he wished Wanda was around. _

_"But - what about my Papa?" _

_"That gypsy, you mean?" Magneto asked, raising a brow. "He's nothing to you now. Besides, that mob killed him and your adoptive mother. There's nothing left for you back there."_

_Everything was back there, but Pietro didn't know how to say that._

_Magneto rose from behind his desk and walked around, towering over Pietro and looking down at him. After a moment, he placed a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder. _

_"That man served his purpose, Pietro. And now you must serve yours." _

_"What purpose is that?" Pietro eyed him skeptically. _

_"There is a war brewing," said Magneto. "You have my blood. That means you are powerful and strong." Pietro looked down at his small body and thin limbs. He did not feel like either of those things, and he said so._

_"Those who raised you taught you to hide your powers, fear them, suppress them. I will teach you to control them and become more than you ever imagined." _

_"Why?" Pietro asked. "All we do is hurt people." _

_Magneto levelled his gaze with the boy, crouching in front of him. _

_"No, my son." Pietro's heart leapt at the endearment. "It is the _people _who have hurt you." _

* * *

He ran as fast as he could, but his speed fell with every passing second. The jolts from before still followed his every motion. He'd only been running for a few minutes when he accidentally jumped right in to the middle of an ongoing battle.

Wide open field had become a graveyard of broken bodies and injured tanks. Pietro barely dodged one explosion and then another, his boots digging into the blood stained earth as soldiers shot all around him, ignorant of his presence.

He ducked and rolled with Kitty on the ground as a tank fired straight above him. Orange and red flames jumped out of the ground just twenty feet to his left, sending one soldier flying into the air and then back to the ground as a hundred different pieces.

The sky was grey.

Pietro pushed past the battle, all of which went on without a single notice of his and Kitty's struggle. One last explosion, possibly a grenade, caught him off-balance and he and Kitty tumbled through the air down a sloping hill.

Pietro slammed into the dirt and rolled down to the bottom, but even his own shout did not drown out the sound of snapping bone.

A few feet away, Kitty rolled to a stop and screamed at the top of her lungs, clutching her leg.

"Shit!" Pietro jumped up, dirt streaked down his side, and slid to his knees at Kitty's side. She rolled on the ground and shouted, cried, clawed at the ground as blood poured from the open wound. Bone jutted out from the skin and quickly caught dirt and grime out of the air, tainting its whiteness.

"Pi - Pietro," Kitty cried out, but it was too much for her. Pietro breathed in sharply, his silver eyes wide and dangerously close to the foreign sensation of tears.

"It's okay," he swallowed and picked her up, despite her screams. "It's okay. It's okay."

He repeated it like a mantra. Behind him, battle waged on and history continued as if they had never crossed its path.

* * *

_An aunt of hers once told Kitty that dog lovers were the type of people who would always greet a canine with a smile, even if it was the vicious, frothing type with a choke collar and a disembodied arm as a chew toy._

_You, she had told Kitty, are the same way with people. Always ready with a smile, no matter what how much others seemed to stay away. And perhaps the woman was right, because even though she was only thirteen, Kitty was always jumping to meet her older classmates._

_Even Pietro Maximoff, who had so far not spoken to a single person in his three days at Bayville High._

_"Hello," she said in chipper tones. Next to her, the young man cast her a wary glance. "My name is Kitty Pryde." _

_"Kitty?" he repeated, raising a brow. "Are your parents lesbians?" _

_Kitty squinted. "Um, no. It's short for Katherine." She giggled. _

_"Right," he said wryly, slumping back in his chair. He looked twitchy. Kitty thought he might be nervous, so she spoke again. "This is my favorite class. I mean, it's really my second favorite. Physics is my first." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Though, I guess it depends on the sem - " _

_The young man leaned over to her, his silver eyes flashing. "Pryde, is it?" _

_She stopped mid-sentence and nodded with a smile. "Yeah!" He smirked, the first time she ever saw him do so. _

_"Pryde," he said slowly. "I would rather share a twin bed with __Blob__than listen to your grating chipmunk voice for one. second. longer." _

_Kitty's eyes popped open and she gasped indignantly. "Why - That is SO rude - " She slammed her textbook against her desk, but in her anger, her arm phased through and she dropped the book to the floor. She yanked out her arm in a flash and then stared straight ahead, her face red, cheeks puffed. _

_When she glanced at Pietro Maximoff out of the corner of her eye, his expression shifted from wide-eyed surprise to a devious smirk. _

_It was then that Kitty knew that this encounter would most certainly not be their last._

* * *

Pietro staggered.

How far had they gone?

It seemed like an awfully long way, but maybe that was just because his body was fighting his every step. Kitty lay in his arms, passed out from the pain and shock. She grew heavier with every moment, dropping lower and lower in Pietro's tired arms.

Nothing around them but solitary trees and dark dirt.

No, it couldn't have been that far. He needed to push on, to go further, because if they stayed in one place too long, that man.. that man in the suit, he would..

He would do what? Pietro struggled to remember.

He fell against a tree. Kitty slid out of his arms to the earth, her face covered in a wave of hair, her scarf lost and forgotten. Pietro dropped to his knees beside her and gathered her in his arms. He could not stand, not anymore, but he couldn't let her lie in the dirt like a corpse.

Pietro clutched her to him and realized with a faint disinterest that they were both covered in blood. He bowed his head over her, silently asking for her forgiveness. He couldn't go any further.

"_Halt! Wer ist da_?"

Pietro's head jerked up and his eyes narrowed. Two German soldiers stood in front of him, guns raised. His intense silver gaze followed them, his arms tense and firm around Kitty's body. He pursed his lips tightly and said nothing.

The two men paused.

"_Wie heißen Sie?" _one of them asked, his gun settled on them, but his finger shifted back from the trigger.

Silence lingered for a long moment.

"Maximoff," Pietro answered dully, his gaze moving back to Kitty's face. He brushed her cheek with a curled finger. He could not run. He could not fight. But he would be damned if anyone was going to pry this woman from his arms.

The two men exchanged uncertain gazes, as if they had encountered a wild animal and were unsure how to react.

"_Wer ist sie_?" the other asked, nodding to Kitty.

She lay unconscious in his arms, her leg bleeding freely and her body limp.

"_Meine Frau_," Pietro answered without looking back up. In front of him, the two men shifted. For a long moment, there was nothing but the distant racket of warfare between the three men.

"_Jüdisch?_"

Pietro nodded slowly. Lies seemed futile at this point.

He did not look up again until one of the soldiers dropped to a knee in front of him. He immediately yanked Kitty to him, but the soldier held up a hand in a show of peace. Then he reached behind him and pulled a smaller bag out of his own pack. He set it on the ground between them.

Pietro peered at the bag without leaving his spot. The inside gaped open and revealed a few things, like water and a small set of bandages. He glanced up at the soldier's face, his own a grimace of suspicion.

"_Wir schlossen uns vor die deutsche Militär vielen Jahren, dass unser Land zu schützen. Wir wollen nicht auf Frauen und Kinder zu töten_," said the soldier, frowning.

He nudged the back in Pietro's direction before moving away and standing.

Pietro reached out with one cautious hand, touching the bag and exploring its contents. Then he turned his gaze back up to the two men, who had settled their guns at their sides and were watching them with expressions dangerously close to sympathy.

"_Danke._" Pietro's words sounded choked and scalded, even to his own ears.

The two soldiers nodded and then made a rushing motion, indicating for him to go. Pietro pushed the strap of the pack up to his shoulder, curled Kitty against his chest, and then stood. He ambled away, glancing once more at the soldiers just before he disappeared in to the brush.

* * *

Pietro stopped just long enough to wrap Kitty's leg to the best of his abilities. It wasn't much, but he couldn't just leave it like it was.

He continued to carry her, equal parts walking, staggering, and falling.

He did not know where they were or where they were going. In the end, it did not matter. He collapsed again, just as night fell, against a wall of granite buried in to the forest landscape. Kitty lay against him, not having spoken a word or opened her eyes in hours.

He was afraid to check and see if she was alive.

Instead, he took water from the canteen the soldier had given them and spread it over her face, brushing away the sodden dirt and sweat. He pressed it into his own hands and then brushed it over her hair, because this was the only thing he could think of to do for her.

Darkness settled. He did not build a fire, because he could not force himself to get up. But it didn't matter. None of it mattered.

He registered the sound of trucks rolling up long before they came into view. Doors slammed, boots shuffled, and guns clinked.

The man in the suit meandered in front of them as if on holiday, his entire posture relaxed.

Two men shoved a bound and beaten Bobby Drake to his knees in front of them. The speed demon brushed his fingers through her hair, his lips pressed close to the crown of her head. For the man in the suit, he spared only a single, searing glare, and no words.

"Well, I must say. You and your buddies are very, very difficult to catch. But, as with any and all who oppose us," the man in the suit gestured to the uniformed soldiers around them. "You, too, have been ... _acquired._"

Pietro curled his fingers tightly on Kitty and sneered at the man.

"I'm not sure if you know this," the man said in his lilted accent. "But Nazis _do _hate those who run." He pointed at Pietro. "Of course, they hate traitors even more."

He pointed to the side. The two soldiers who had helped them just hours ago dropped to their knees, tied up much like Bobby Drake and gagged at the mouth. Pietro met their gazes. He found them unflinching and unapologetic.

He appreciated that.

Pietro clenched his eyes shut as two bullets dropped both of the men to the dirt. His fingers brushed Kitty's neck, his own gaze looking to the man in the suit.

_I will kill this man. _

The thought was so firm and unshakeable that houses could have stood on its foundation. Pietro's jaw clenched, his expression twisted in to one of fury.

"Allow me to introduce myself," said the man in the suit, nonplussed by Pietro's rage. "I am Doctor Klaus Schmidt."

He smiled.

* * *

Author's Note: Caught. And yes, the next few chapters will be .. unfortunate.


	15. Record

**VERTRAULICH**

Autopsiebericht

Auschwitz - Birkenau, Province of Upper Silesia, Regierungsbezirk Kattowitz, Landkreis Bielitz

**Autopsy Report**

DATE AND HOUR OF AUTOPSY PERFORMED:

12 December 1944 / 9:24 A.M. Date of Death: Est. 9 October 1944

Attending Physician: Carl Clauberg, M.D. PT: 9991-3A

PT Name: Unknown

Ethnicity: Unknown, dark of skin and hair. _Possibly Romani or Latin-American. _

Age: Apprx. 16-19 Years Weight: 122 lbs.

Gender: F Height: 5'3

Cause of Death: Ballistic Trauma to Head Body Identified By: Sgt. Enrich Wagner

External Examination:

**12 December 1944 - 9:24 A.M. **

Patient's body discovered 8 miles south of Danzig, buried approximately 9-10 feet underground. The body suffered little deterioration due to the nature of its burial and the temperature outside. Discovered and brought to the attention of Professor Karl Gebhardt. Given over for post-mortem report to Clauberg, M.D.

No papers or other identification found on or around the body. No indication of citizenship or family. Stolen military-issue items located in a nearby bag. No other personal affects or signs of shelter located at the time of discovery.

Clothing tattered, dark brown coat, denim pants, blue undershirt and red pull-over. No jewelry. The body is that of a normally developed adolescent, approximately 16-19 years of age, with a 3 inch scar to the bottom left of the collarbone.

Identifying markers include tattoos in the shape of wings on each of the patient's shoulder blades, black in color and intricate in design. Documented and photographed for further inspection. Limbs are equal, symmetrically developed and show no evidence of injury. The fingernails are medium length and fingernail beds are discolored.

Patient to be drained of blood and further inspection is to take place.

**13 December 1944 - 8:15 A.M. **

Patient's Body exhibiting high levels of radiation and static electricity post-mortem. The thorax, in particular, has an unusual temperature gradient and was brought to the attention of Dr. Klaus Schmidt. The patient was then transported to Block 10 - A for official autopsy. X-Rays scheduled for the next four days. Patient's head shaved and other body hair removed for upcoming experiment to determine the cause of these high levels.

Three digits on the right hand removed and sent to SS-Obergruppenführer Ernst Grawitz.

**14 December 1944 - 10:42 A.M.**

INTERNAL EXAMINATION:

HEAD - CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM: Subsequent autopsy shows a broken hyoid bone. Hemorrhaging from Gunshot B penetrates the skin and sub-dermal tissues of the neck. The brain weighs 1,303 grams and within normal limits.

RESPIRATORY SYSTEM-THROAT STRUCTURES: Mild trauma to the oral cavity and past hemorrhaging, possibly from a blunt object. Other slight deterioration or lesions of lung tissue evident. _Note: Unusual layer of flame-resistant mucusa in oral cavity and lining the gums, teeth, and lips. _

CARDIOVASCULAR SYSTEM: The heart weighs 253 grams, and has a normal size and configuration. No evidence of atherosclerosis is present.

GASTROINTESTINAL SYSTEM: The mucosa and wall of the esophagus are intact and gray-pink, without lesions or injuries. _Note: The gastric mucosa is intact and is also coated with the same high levels of static electricity and above average acidity. _

**15 December 1944 - 9:14 A.M.**

EXTERNAL EXAMINATION - 2

Upon closer inspection, patient's tattoos appear to have a strange indentions around the wing-shaped markings. After extensive testing, the wings were prompted to separate from the skin. They were then removed from the patient's body and transferred to Holding Cell D - 13/CL 291 for testing. The patient's torso has been severed and transported to Himmler for study on the acidity levels that culminate there.

The rest of the body has been separated and sent to three other facilities per order of Schmidt.

CONCLUSION:

Patient exhibited ability to convert acidic materials into static electricity and project them from her throat in the form of small bursts of combustion. External wings also formed from the cutaneous layers of the shoulder blades to give the ability for self-flight.

**Patient Confirmed as **_**genetische Anomalie. **_

* * *

**VERTRAULICH**

Autopsiebericht

Auschwitz - Birkenau, Province of Upper Silesia, Regierungsbezirk Kattowitz, Landkreis Bielitz

**Medical Report **

DATE AND HOUR OF EXAMINATION:

20 December 1944 / 7:32 A.M. Status: Alive

Attending Physician: Klaus Schmidt, M.D. Assisting Physician: Josef Mengele, M.D.

PT Name: Robert W. Drake Case: 13255 - 2B

Age: Apprx 16-19 Years Weight: 175 lbs

Sex: M Height: 5'11

Ethnicity: Caucasion

**20 December 1944 - 8:00 A.M. **

Patient is administered a calming chemical for the initial examination, as he remains hostile to the doctors and staff. Initial examination reveals a number of cutaneous injuries, possibly from the arrest made prior. Other external injuries include a fractured wrist, bruising of the throat and a displaced patella.

Per orders of Dr. Klaus Schmidt, patient is immediately sterilized and moved to Holding Block 2-1A.

**21 December 1944 - 9:40 A.M. **

Patient physically restrained, use of anesthesia prohibited. Reports from arrest indicate no papers or other source of identification found. Limited patient information obtained from patient himself under duress. Examination stopped when patient exhibited abnormally low body temperatures and began to go into hypothermic shock. Subcutaneous damage occurred immediately before the patient was sedated back into a state of calm.

Once patient was unconscious, testing followed in order to address internal damage. No such damage was found, patient body returning to normal temperatures. Completely normal ranges occurred within 2-4 minutes of sedation.

**22 December 1944 - 2:10 P.M. **

Patient injected and monitored for changes in body temperature. When the patient awakened, thermal in and around the body began to fluctuate. Patient taken to insulated chamber and exposed to increasingly high and low temperatures in order to calculate tolerance and control. Per reports, patient body tissues remain unaffected by subzero temperature. MRI of the brain reveals heightened activity in the hypothalamus that allows the patient superior control of his internal body temperatures.

Patient's body reacted to the heat _increase _by drawing the surrounding moisture in the air and condensing it to his skin in order to combat the temperature and strengthen the overall integrity of both his dermal and skeletal features. Patient's limit came at 150 degrees Fahrenheit and his body sustained 3rd degree burns on the right side. Removed from the thermal chamber and placed back in cell.

**23 December 1944 - 10:39 A.M. **

MRI of the brain confirmed heightened hypothalamus activity in conjunction with body temperature self-regulation. Patient placed in freezing cold water for 2-4 hours, no reaction, body is able to handle the stress. Patient is placed in scalding water, reacts by once again crystallizing moisture and ejecting it through his hands. Experiment discontinued for the day due to damage to the lab.

**24 December 1944 - 1:45 P.M. **

Patient partially sedated in order to prevent injury to medical staff. While restrained, the patient is exposed to various injuries, including a broken femur, in order to induce the cryokinetic abilities. Even though the patient was adequated restrained in the beginning of the procedure, it is apparent that the use of his cryokinesis augments his strength, as he was able to break his barriers and gravely injure two of the medical assistants. Patient was then sedated once more and returned to the holding block.

**25 December 1944 - 3:01 P.M.**

Patient sedated and right leg removed in order to study effects of cryokineses to dismembered body parts. Further inspection shows that once removed from the initial source, possibly the brain, the limb is no longer capable of delaying tissue degeneration at extreme temperatures.

**27 December 1944 - 11:20 A.M. **

Patient once more exposed to extreme temperatures with added effects of undernourishment and no sedation. Patient's body not able to stand previously accountable temperatures and suffers high level burns along the front and left side of his body. Patient removed and sedated.

**28 December 1944 - 9:52 A.M. **

Patient's body regenerated removed right leg in organic ice form, possibly through the process of molecular moisture conversion. Patient's right arm is removed from the elbow down in order to observe if effects are repeatable.

**29 December 1944 - 9:20 A.M**

Patient's arm re-generated in only half proportion and remains organic ice with no cutaneous tissue. Patient sedated due to noise and stress levels. Malformed arm is removed and the process is repeated.

**30 December 1944 - 10:24 A.M. **

No further limb regeneration observed. Patient's original arm reattached to observe reactive properties. It does not acclimate back to the body and is removed once more.

**31 December 1944 - 11:39 P.M. **

Patient suffered cardiac arrest during surgery to remove further limbs and destroyed the lab in the process. Patient files currently being recovered. Failure of project, patient injected with phenol to the heart and embalmed. Body will be removed under the care of Dr. Klaus Schmidt to Holding Block 9-12BC. Autopsy to occur 01 January 1944. Status Converted to Deceased.

CONCLUSION:

Patient's abilities included high levels of control in the areas of Hydrokineses, Cryokinesis, Thermal vision and molecular conversion.

**Patient Confirmed as **_**genetische Anomalie. **_

* * *

Author's Note: Probably not what people were expecting from this chapter, but this is how I decided to present this. And do NOT google any of the men listed here (with the exception of Klaus Schmidt, who is fictional) unless you wish to have your day ruined. These men were real and the things I've listed here were real experiments on living humans.

Also, forgive me if whatever you are reading on gets this format all weird. I don't know how this will look on-screen, to be honest.


	16. Tick

Author's Note: Hang in there with me, guys...

* * *

**VERTRAULICH**

Autopsiebericht

Auschwitz - Birkenau, Province of Upper Silesia, Regierungsbezirk Kattowitz, Landkreis Bielitz

_Medical Report _

DATE AND HOUR OF EXAMINATION:

20 December 1944 / 9:20 A.M. Status: Alive

Attending Physician: Josef Mengele, M.D. Assisting Physician: Aribert Heim, M.D.

PT Name: Katherine Pryde Case: 889-1CX

Age: Apprx 13-15 Yrs Weight: 102 lbs

Sex: F Height: 5'2

Ethnicity: Caucasion

**20 December 1944 - 8:30 A.M.**

Patient sedated and assessed. Per officer reports, patient is capable of escape and has been outfitted with an electroshock collar to avoid use of _anamolie _abilities. Broken femur set in a cast to avoid unnecessary infection.

**21 December 1944 - 10: 20 A.M. **

Electroshock collar malfunctioned during escape attempt. Patient gassed to a state of unconsciousness and removed from the room. Collar repaired and reconfigured. Patient placed on operating table with one extended limb at a time exposed to mustard gas. Patient unable to seperate atoms for the purpose of gas protection. Chemical burns on right arm and leg.

**22 December 1944 - 2:10 P.M. **

Patient awakened during the re-fitting of the collar and injured several nurses. She was then shocked with 500 volts. Inspection of the patient's body afterwards showed evidence of internal burns from the shocks. The right femur was also re-broken during the altercation and had to be re-set. Electroshock collar destroyed by patient and removed. Other methods of restrain to be researched.

**23 December 1944 - 2:42 P.M. **

Patient sent to full-body scan to determine source of _anomalie _abilities. Allergic reaction occurred due to contrast in procedure. Patient briefly flatlined and then was resucitated. Blood samples taken for Block C-232.

**24 December 1944 - 1:45 P.M. **

First attempt at gathering observational data. Patient drugged and placed in a 6x9 room with electrically charged walls. Patient was able to move through the walls without shock and was gassed to prevent escape.

**25 December 1944 - 2:11 P.M.**

_Anomalie _Patient placed in high pressure situation in order to prompt phasing. Patient 990-1A (Female/Age4) placed on opposite side of solid riser above broiler room and then exposed to increasing temperatures. Patient successfully phased through riser wall and attempted to escape with Patient 990-1A. Both patients shocked with 400 volts. _Note: Patient 990-1A deceased and now in need of replacement for further testing. _

**27 December 1944 - 11:20 A.M. **

Testing confirms that patient's ability comes from direct control of atom spacing, the movement of which through solid electrical devices results in electrical malfunction. Patient placed in room with layered walls containing mustard gas to avoid escape. Patient attempted to phase through walls. Currently seeking treatment for severe chemical burns.

Nerve endings from patient removed from three fingers on right hand and transported to Block 201-P for Clausberg. _Note: Patient now suffering atrophy in right hand. Removal to be discussed. _Per Dr. Schmidt, hand is not to be removed. Regeneration testing to commence.

**29 December 1944 - 9:20 A.M**

Scans on reproductive organs to commence per Clausberg. Results show that patient reproductive system is normal. Eggs removed for further testing.

Exposed patient's legs subjected to slowly increasing weight of 20-200 lbs in order to induce phasing. Patient unable to complete study/successfully phase and both femurs are currently broken. Leg reset.

**30 December 1944 - 9:11 P.M. **

Patient regained consciousness. Testing 21-C began at 4:20 P.M. in Block B. Patient is placed in electrified box and prompted to escape through the bottom. The bottom of the box is then electrified in order to discourage reentry. Patient is kept underground for extended periods of time this way in order to ascertain amount of time spent in phasing state and how it affects the physical body. Patient's oxygen levels drop, brain activity decreases, lung capacity diminishes. Patient is removed and resucciated. Experiment repeated in in Block 4, Block 2A, and Block 02-31.

Patient placed in a room with the body of Patient 13255-2B in order to prompt escape attempt. She is able to move herself, her clothing, and the deceased patient through the east barrier wall at the same time. Patient is immediately gassed in order to halt escape and returned to her room. Heavily sedated to hysterical notions and violence.

**31 December 1944 - 9:50 A.M. **

Patient deliberated infected with epidemic jaundice without inoculation in order to ascertain whether patient has ability to phase at the bacterial level. Patient experiences symptoms of hemothorax and vomiting. Survival rate estimated at 10%.

**01 January 1945 - 8:00 A.M. **

Patient staved off worst of the infection, blood drawn and patient sedated. Internal bleeding continues to be an issue. Patient turned over to care of Mengele per order of Schmidt.

CONCLUSION:

Patient is able to move through solid objects by passing her atoms through the spaces between atoms in other objects. Patient is unable to phase through the spaces in gas or plasma. Patient is able to extend phasing to other people or objects, but must remain in physical contact in order to do so.

**Patient Confirmed as **_**genetische Anomalie. **_

* * *

**VERTRAULICH**

Autopsiebericht

Auschwitz - Birkenau, Province of Upper Silesia, Regierungsbezirk Kattowitz, Landkreis Bielitz

_Medical Report _

DATE AND HOUR OF EXAMINATION:

20 December 1944 / 3:00 P.M. Status: Alive

Attending Physician: Josef Mengele, M.D. Assisting Physician: Klaus Schmidt, M.D.

PT Name: Pietro Maximoff Case: 391-3-A2

Age: Apprx 16-18 Yrs Weight: 159

Sex: M Height: 5'11

Ethnicity: Caucasion

**20 December 1944 - 9:21 A.M.**

First sedation of patient fails. Dr. Karl Brandt is struck and killed. Metabolism reassessed and patient is sedated again. Second sedation fails and patient causes injuries to four personnel before being subdued. Third sedation is successful.

**21 December 1944 - 2:00 P.M.**

Patient _anomalie _labelled as extreme speed. He is to be kept heavily sedated in order to avoid any further incidents.

**22 December 1944 - 2:10 P.M. **

Internal scans reveal highly developed cardiovascular and respiratory systems. Patient force-fed nutrients through feeding tube. Metabolic rates exceeding 95% of caloric energy content. Experiment Block H-J to commence. Patient placed in 6x8 room for 12-24 hours at a time. Observations include patient panic, extreme running, and force winds exceeding 200 miles per hour. Patient is sedated via gas and returned to cell.

**23 December 1944 - 9:10 A.M.**

Experiments continue. Patient is placed in room with revolving floor starting at speeds of 60 mph. Patient unable to move properly due to malnourished state. Sedated via gas, force-fed tube nutrients, experiment begins again. Speeds included to 200 mph, patient is able to maintain this speed for 21 hours, 29 minutes and 12 seconds before physical collapse.

**24 December 1944 - 1:45 P.M. **

Patient exposure to extreme temperatures during running. Observations include no fatigue poisons to the body, though decreasing temperatures at high levels of oxygen intake cause muscle damage. Patient falls and suffers three leg and arm breaks.

**25 December 1944 - 2:11 P.M.**

MRI reveals patient has increased lubrication in joints and increased strength in tendons in order to aid above average speeds. Muscle tissue taken from patient for replication purposes. Patient reaction time tested by placing him in room with rapid projectiles. Patient is only able to sustain positive movement for first thirty-two minutes before being struck. Patient suffers rib damage and internal bleeding.

**27 December 1944 - 11:30 A.M. **

Patient unconscious due to labored breathing. Physical experimentation briefly suspended per Schmidt.

**02 January 1945 - 9:03 A.M. **

Patient regained consciousness. Per order Dr. Klaus Schmidt, patient is transported to Hall B, Block 2A ASAP.

WARNING: Patient considered extremely dangerous.

**Patient Confirmed as **_**genetische Anomalie. **_

* * *

"Mr. Maximoff, please. Take a seat."

Schmidt must have been making a joke because Pietro Maximoff had been wheeled into his office just moments ago, strapped to an up-right gurney in such a way that not even his neck was free to move. Restrained as he was, he could see only Schmidt in front of him, reclined easily behind a heavy oak desk.

Pietro said nothing.

The man in the suit rose from his chair and circled the desk, his movements light and unconcerned. He reached over and plucked a delicate tumbler and a bottle of fine whiskey from a shelf nearby, pouring himself a drink and then draining it all in one gulp.

"Pietro - May I call you Pietro? - I've got to be honest with you."

He leaned against the dark wood and smirked at the younger man. "My name is not Klaus Schmidt. It's Sebastian Shaw." He waved his glass a little. "And I am not a Nazi." He moved, stepping around Pietro slowly as he spoke.

"On the contrary, Pietro. I am a business man. For the last ten years, my business has been with the Nazi party of Germany. But now," he stopped in front of Pietro and smiled. "I am moving on to bigger and better things. Things that I think you will be _very _interested in."

Pietro's gaze lowered to the garish carpet underfoot as he listened.

"You see, today is your lucky day, Mr. Maximoff. Because I have a proposition for you."

Pietro's eyes flickered at a sudden burst of movement in the corner of the room, but he couldn't see what it was until the red smoke drifted in front of his eyes and two figures emerged.

Shaw reached up and brushed one of his restraints.

"I am creating something spectacular, Pietro. Something the world has never seen before. A team of people like you. _Mutants._" The man in the suit curled his lips into a grin. "It's called The Hellfire Club. And it will one day soon rule the world."

Shaw quickly unlocked the restraints binding Pietro to the gurney and he dropped the few inches to the floor. His knees nearly buckled, and even though he kept his head down, his eyes caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror.

If he'd ever been thin before, he was doubly so now. His eye sockets were the color of ash and strange scrubs he'd been given to wear only made him look paler and more gaunt. Pietro turned his eyes back to the carpet.

"I realize you might be a bit sore at me for leaving you with these Nazis during your stay here," Shaw went on, turning to fix himself something more to drink. "But these Nazis? Eh, they were what I needed at the time. I had to use their resources to track you and these other fine gentlemen down, so I had to give them their time to play."

The other two figures moved closer into view and Pietro registered them vaguely. One was a hellish looking mutant with blood-red skin and oily black hair. A spade tipped tail, strangely familiar, twitched behind him. He crouched on the floor like a caged animal, his eyes ticking back and forth over Pietro. The other young man was much less unusual looking, but the manic glint in his eye was equally unsettling.

"What I want from you, Pietro," said Shaw as he faced him once more, "is for you to leave here, join us, and become a member of my team. We are working towards great things, Pietro. Amazing things. With us, you will have everything you could have ever wanted." He smiled. The effect stretched his face oddly.

"Money," he went on. "Freedom. Power in governments all over the world. _Mutant affected change_." He waved a hand. "These Nazis think I'm one of them, but it was I who turned over many of their state secrets to the Allies. I have the most important men in the world at my beck and call, why? Because I am able to manipulate them to my purposes." He sipped his drink and then set it on his desk once more. "Say the word, Mr. Maximoff, and I will spring you free on this very day into a world of such fantastic things that you will wonder how you ever lived without them."

Sebastian Shaw advanced on Pietro and gave him a relaxed smile.

"What do you say to that?"

When Pietro spoke, he hardly recognized his own voice. It was gruff and cracked with disuse.

"_Where. Is. Kitty_?"

Shaw paused, his eyebrows furrowing. "Kitty?" he repeated, glancing at his comrades, who shrugged. "What the hell is Kitty?"

Pietro's bruised fingers twitched at his sides. His chin nearly sat on his chest, bowed as his head was.

"Where. Is. _Kitty?" _Her name came out in a deep growl.

Shaw shifted in front of him and his tone became annoyed. "I don't know what you're talking about, Maximoff - "

"_The girl who was captured with me!" _Pietro shouted at the floor, his fists tight and shaking. Shaw jumped at the sudden volume of Pietro's voice and then scowled, turning to make himself another drink. "You mean that mutant girl? I had to leave here with Mengele."

He turned to face him again, drink in hand. "I couldn't take all of their little toys away, after all. I'm not out of the clear yet. Besides, she was too weak to join me and, as a result, is unimportant. I'm not even one hundred percent sure she's still alive, to be honest." His tone was lofty and casual, but his face had shifted into a grimace.

Pietro's knuckles cracked from the force of his grip.

Shaw seemed to sense his anger, because he set down his glass heavily and sneered. "What? Are you telling me that you'd rather stay here and wait for that pathetic girl to die before you'd leave with me? Are you telling me - " his voice grew louder, " - that you're _refusing _me?"

Pietro's body began to tremble. Deep in the foundation of the grey brick building, bolts and joints gave a dangerous rattle. When he didn't answer, Shaw scowled in disgust.

"I am offering you everything in the world, Maximoff! Everything you could possibly want after being stuck in this shithole. And now you're worried about some girl that's probably already dead?"

To the side, the red-skinned mutant glanced up at the trinket-lined shelves around him, noticing how they clinked and shifted.

"You are a fool, Maximoff. What do you think you can do here, huh? You're surrounded by Nazis. You're trapped. You're bound. You're weak. You have no where to run."

He leaned close to Pietro's downcast face.

"You. Are. Powerless_._"

The minute trembling in the room gradually grew louder and more aggressive. The outlines of Pietro's form blurred with tiny, lightning fast movement. Pietro's lips suddenly split into a grin and a strange sound, possibly a laugh, escaped him.

His eyes slowly lifted to Shaw's.

"_Is that what you think_?" he hissed.

"Sir," said the younger mutant to the side. Items began to bump around and drop off the shelves, making him jump out of the way. The walls began to stretch and groan, small pieces of stone and wallpaper crumbling and falling. The heavy desk behind Shaw jumped with increasing strength.

Shaw snarled and turned on Pietro, who now looked him square in the eye.

"Stop it now! STOP - " The rest of the command was lost to a gargled gasp when Pietro cut into the man's gut with a heavy, lightning fast fist that curled up and into his torso. By the time the other two mutants had even registered the movement, bruised fingers were wrapped around Shaw's struggling heart. Blood and tissue coated Pietro's arm all the way up to the shoulder and the splash of red made him grin once more.

"Shaw, Shaw, Shaw... " he murmured, as his body continued to hum with blazing speeds. The walls trembled and began to fall in earnest. The other two mutants dove at him, but Pietro was too quick. As always.

"Even _I_ don't have the time to give you the death you deserve." Pietro jerked back his arm and took Shaw's heart with him. He dropped it to the ground just as the sirens began to sound throughout the complex.

A puff of red smoke signaled the demon mutant behind him, but Pietro spared him only a moment to materialize fully before he snapped his neck with a kick. The other mutant jumped him from behind, smashing them both into the desk. The sirens blared and soldiers came running, but Shaw's office door was locked.

"You're not leaving here alive!" the other mutant snarled, hooking an arm around Pietro's neck. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't maintain the grip when Pietro broke into a wild spin. The other mutant flew off Pietro's back and slammed into the wall mirror Pietro had looked into only moments ago. When he fell to the floor, Pietro brought up a foot and smashed it straight through his neck.

"Shut the fuck up," Pietro growled, before turning swiftly on his heel. The soldiers were in the process of beating down Shaw's door, their shouts drowned out by the screaming sirens. Pietro looked all around him, but there was no other escape route.

Outside of the office, he heard a wall collapsing.

Pietro finally stopped looking and sucked in a deep breath, his eyes closing for just a moment. Then he bent low, his arms pulled back in a racing stance. The door burst open, but before soldiers could file in, Pietro raced through the entryway in a flash of silver gust that shot through the roof of the office and blasted away the ceiling.

The last thing he heard was the collapse of Shaw's office, falling in on itself like a decrepit abandoned home.


	17. Tock

The light here was soft.

Some part of Kitty Pryde's mind registered the relative dimness of the room a great while before her body reacted. Eyelids fluttered and took their time opening fully. Perhaps as long as a half hour went by before she turned her head.

A pillow rustled next to her cheek. Clean, cool sheets lay over her. Somewhere nearby, a fan turned in whispered rotation.

Something in Kitty's mind snapped. She shot forward with a scream.

"Whoa - Whoa, wait!" The voice came from the side of her, making Kitty shriek and scramble across the bed. It was then that she realized she was hooked up to a monitor and an I.V. drip. She yanked at the needles frantically, crying out and sobbing. "Get away from me!" she screamed, only registering fragments of the man who approached her.

"Please, stop! No, don't - Oh, for goodness sake. Kitty, please!"

She turned swiftly, her watery eyes wild. "Don't say my name!" she snarled, fighting her way to the corner of the bed where she tucked in against a wall and curled up tightly.

She blinked, her breath trembling, tears pouring down her face. Her vision quivered and then cleared for a moment. The old man in front of her stopped, his eyebrows furrowed. He frowned.

"Please, Kitty.." he said gently. His words were in English, Kitty realized with a start, but still heavily accented. She recoiled when he stepped closer and barely kept herself from growling at him.

He stopped, dropping his hands and then politely clasping them in front of him.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you." He watched as Kitty's eyes flickered over his white lab coat. He shifted and pulled it off, revealing a normal cotton button-up and slacks beneath it. He gave her an apologetic smile as he dropped it to a normal dining chair that sat off to the side.

"I do not blame you for being apprehensive of doctors," he admitted sympathetically. "I do not like them much myself." He chuckled and then chose another chair, this one with wheels. He took a seat a few feet away from Kitty's bed.

"Forgive me. My name is Leonik Chociemski. You may call me Leon."

Kitty's eyes darted over him, her fingers twitching at her knees. She refused to take her gaze away from him, which he did not seem to mind. In fact, as Kitty watched, he settled himself comfortably in the rolling chair and smiled. He said nothing, as if allowing Kitty a moment to observe. A long moment of silence followed. Kitty's brain fought to work over what to do or say, but language was as foreign to her as escape right now, so she kept silent and unmoving. The man seemed satisfied to allow her this time.

Finally, after a stretch of time Kitty wasn't able to measure, she managed to choke out just a few words.

"Is this - camp?"

Every syllable was a struggle. Something in her neck itched and ached. She scratched at it absently, her eyes darting to the high ceiling.

"No," the man said softly. "This is not the camp."

Kitty eyed him warily, her fingers still scratching. When the tips of her fingers felt moist, she pulled them away and saw blood. The man in the chair eyed her hand with a concerned look, but said nothing. Kitty forced her hand to drop, but her fingers still twitched. Everything on her felt wrong.

"Where?"

"You are in my home," he gestured, and for the first time, Kitty's nervous eyes noticed the arched doorways and dark wooden floors. She appeared to be in a dining room, largely empty of the traditional furniture and instead decorated with various cabinets and medical instruments. "Which also happens to double as my place of work, given that the Nazis destroyed my clinic two years ago." He scrunched up his wrinkled face in displeasure. The expression made him look years younger, even though he seemed to be at least sixty.

He reclined in his chair. "They care little for my village of _Koszyce Wielkie_, but they still managed to ruin as much as possible on their march through. They're quite rude, which I'm sure you know."

Kitty's brows furrowed. For just a moment, she let her eyes leave him and scan the room again. She had been sleeping in a soft twin bed, covered in white sheets and a blue quilt. She reached up a trembling hand - something in her fingers didn't seem to be working quite right - and touched her hair. It had been washed.

Her silent contemplation led the man, Leon, to speak again.

"Would it comfort you to know that your friend Pietro is here as well?"

Kitty's eyes shot up, her hand dropping. For a moment, the name fell away from her lips and was replaced by a sob.

"P - Pietro?"

She moved to leap out of the bed, but she stumbled on weak legs and fell to the floor. Leon was up in an instant, tentatively helping her up by the arm. She jerked away her, gasping loudly and jumping back to the safety of her bed.

"Where is he?" she cried, fresh tears streaming down her face. "Please, please - just - "

"It's alright, Kitty, please!"

"Just let me see him!"

"I will let you see him," Leon told her fervently, his hands held up. "I swear, but he is sleeping right now, and it is the first time I've gotten him to do since you two arrived three weeks ago!"

Kitty's heart pounded in her chest and she barely kept from fainting. "P - Pi - Pietro," she touched her face and raked her nails down her cheeks. Leon reached up, and this time she flinched, but did not pull away.

"Yes, but as I said, he needs to rest. Honestly, it took a great deal of effort to get him to leave your side and I would appreciate it if it were not wasted." He placed her hands in her lap again. "I will take you to him in just a little while, okay? In the mean time," he reached over and opened a refrigerated cabinet, plucking a small plastic bottle from it. He handed it to Kitty. "Drink this."

Kitty eyed the bottle, instantly suspicious. Leon made a face. "It's apple juice. You need to replenish your nutrients."

When Kitty still refused to take it, he set it next to her bed and reclaimed his seat. After a moment, he leaned forward.

"Tell me something. What is _Kitty _short for?"

Kitty glanced at him, her expression curled into one of deep suspicion. "Why?"

"Just curious," said Leon easily.

She sucked in a deep breath and swallowed. "Katherine," she managed after a moment's thought. The man nodded thoughtfully and then asked, "If you could have any animal in the world as a pet, what would it be?"

Kitty stared. He gestured for her to speak.

"A.. a bunny rabbit," she said after a moment, her forehead wrinkling with thought. He seemed to be waiting for her to elaborate, so she continued. "I always thought they were .. cute. But .. " she tilted her head, her eyes falling on a blank wall. "My mother always thought they were .. like rats. She wouldn't let me have one."

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. "I had a rabbit when I was young. They are excellent pets for Polish children, you see, because they don't mind the cold. Or being left outside on accident." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I was not a good pet owner."

The man turned to her again. "How do you feel about your toes?"

Kitty blinked. "What?" she asked, her tone bewildered. The man waved a hand. "Ah, some people like their toes, other people do not. They think they are fat or stubby or shaped like something odd. I personally like mine. So how do you feel about yours?"

She stared. "Are these medical questions?"

The man raised both brows, his lips quirking. "Well, I'm a doctor and I'm asking them, so they must be."

The brunette girl squinted at him and, after a moment's contemplation, said, "You're testing my cognition." The old man's face split into a smile.

"Yes, I am. And I am equal parts surprised and delighted to find you doing so well, relatively speaking." He reached forward and pressed the bottle of apple juice toward her with his index finger. Slowly, Kitty reached out and took it. Only after examining it and then sniffing its contents did she chance a sip.

The rest she drained in mere minutes. "You speak very good English," she whispered.

"I was educated in the United States many years ago," he told her, pulling out another juice bottle and drinking from it himself. It had cartoons on the label. "All the way from primary to medical school, in fact. I returned to my homeland to open my clinic." He grimaced. "Perhaps not my best decision."

"How did we get here?" Kitty asked finally, her fingers gripping the bottle and finding comfort in the way it steadied her hands. Leon tilted his head.

"Some of my townspeople found the two of you in the snow, unconscious and near death, some ten miles from here. They brought you to me because I am the best doctor in the area." He waved his fingers. "Well, I am the _only _doctor in the area. But, eh." He settled a look on Kitty. "I have kept an eye on the both of you since then. It has been... informative, to say the least."

The girl's gaze darted up to his face.

"How much do you know about us?"

Here, Leon's expression shifted to one of soft, wise countenance. "Everything the Nazis knew about you, I'm sure." Kitty's chest tightened. Her fingers smeared some of the blood from her neck on the plastic juice bottle.

"So you know that we're.. different?"

The man nodded, saying nothing more. Kitty frowned deeply, her head falling to the side out of exhaustion. She sat limp as a rag doll, silent, but the doctor continued.

"I also know that you are - how I should say - not from around here. Not this country. Not this place. Not this time."

Kitty's eyes slowly lifted. Behind the doctor's head, a window framed a dark night sky and a heavy snowfall.

"You can't possibly believe that."

Leon shrugged against his chair. "I can. I study the human body. I have seen what great and powerful things it can do." His eyes shifted and he fell silent for just a moment. When he spoke, his words were quiet and directed at the wooden floor.

"And my son was like you."

Kitty's brown eyes moved over his face as his tone shifted to one of quiet sorrow. He gestured, as if to draw attention away from his face. "Well, not exactly like you, of course. But he was _different_, as you say." Kitty's hands slowly placed the bottle aside and she scooted a little closer, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

"What happened to him?"

Leon glanced back up at her and smiled again, his expression reminding Kitty of a kindly grandfather. "He volunteered for the war two years ago. He died within a few months." The man sighed and stood, walking over to a bookshelf lined with medical texts.

"I'm sorry," Kitty said on instinct. The man turned to her again. "Thank you, but.. I do not believe he was sorry, so that gives me comfort." Kitty lowered her gaze to her lip, her mind reflecting on the soft bed beneath her and the small touches of home that dotted her surroundings. Things like she hadn't seen or felt in so long.

"You had someone else with you in the camps. A friend."

Grief enveloped Kitty's chest. The name came from her lips unbidden, syllables choked out with tears.

"Bo - Bobby."

Leon nodded. "Did you see him die?" he asked, not unkindly. Kitty's lips parted, her throat working over another sob. She shook her head, unable to speak. The doctor looked upon his shelf once more.

"Ah, that is the thing about death, little Kitty.." he sighed. "Fr every name we remember... for every leader we memorialize... for every effigy we erect in someone's honor... there are _hundreds _of _thousands _more.. who die alone, without anyone to see them or mourn them, without even the respect or honor of someone noticing that this breath is their _last_."

His hand dropped away from the shelf.

"War remembers statistics and forgets that each of those numbers represent a person's entire _life, _from the day they entered this world and changed someone's life forever, to their first steps, their first loves, their tragedies and their hopes and their desires. All of which culminated in that exact moment - " he snapped his fingers, " - of death."

Kitty turned to face him again, her tears running dry.

"That's a lot of responsibility for just a number, don't you think?" asked Leon.

"Yes," she agreed. Leon settled in his chair again, this time close to the bed as he leaned forward on his knees. "Do not forget these people, Kitty. To do so would be a great injustice."

She nodded. Some part of her chest felt fuller and it steadied her.

A few minutes passed before Leon leaned over and plucked a small rectangular box from his shelf. He handed it to Kitty.

"You may go see Pietro. Take this to him. He will know what it is."

Kitty curled her fingertips over the box. "Thank you," she whispered. Leon smiled at her and gently touched her hands. "Go now." Kitty moved off the bed, her shaky legs wobbling dangerously. She was wearing a long sleep shirt, she realized. Her hair was pulled back into a messy braid, which someone must have done while she slept. When her knees finally steadied, Kitty glanced once more at Leon, who pointed her through the arched doorway and down the corridor.

Kitty slipped across the wooden floor on bare feet and stepped out, her eyes drifting over her surroundings. The home was large, with open, spacious rooms and high ceilings. Its furniture was sparse, but elegant. A room she passed held only a grand piano and its bench. The first door she passed was a small guest bathroom. The next door was cracked open with only a single lamp illuminating it in the far corner. The rest of the room basked in shadows.

She peeked in.

A dark wood table sat under a wall mirror, a vase of flowers in its center. A door on the opposite side of the room led to another small bathroom. And, in the center of the room, a large bed with soft yellow quilts exposed a sleeping man, curled in its center with one arm tucked over his head.

"Pietro," Kitty stumbled once, moving through the door and setting aside the box Leon had given her. For a moment, she was afraid to speak or reach out. Then, with quivering fingertips, she touched his face.

Pietro Maximoff jerked awake, his eyes wide and startled. Kitty yanked back her hand and stumbled back against the bedside table, tling the lamp. For a moment, they stared at one another, unmoving. Then they moved at the same time, but Pietro was so much faster than her, out of his bed and gathering her in his arms before she'd scarcely moved.

Kitty's body crumpled against his, her hands fitting behind his neck as she clinged to him desperately. "Oh, god.." she murmured, and even though she had exhausted all her tears, more spilled down her cheek as she pressed her face into Pietro's neck.

When Kitty pulled back her head, she was surprised to see him wiping away a few tears of his own. "I wasn't sure you'd wake up," he admitted finally, his voice rougher than she remembered. She cherished its every word and pressed herself closer to him, his arms tight around her. He pushed her hair back from her face and cupped her cheek with a warm hand.

"I'm - I'm okay," she started, but Pietro shook his head violently. "I should have been there when you - when you woke up, I should have stayed - "

"I'm okay, I promise!" she told him, pulling him back to the bed, for fear she'd simply fall to the floor in a puddle. Pietro moved on to the bed with her and pulled back the sheets. The room didn't have a fireplace, like the dining room Kitty had been in, and so he pulled her flush against him and tugged up the blankets. The bed was so much softer and cozier than Kitty thought any bed had a right to be.

In fact, the comfort of a real home felt strangely foreign.

But when Pietro wrapped her up in his arms and painstakingly tucked her in the quilt, the sensation began to feel more real. Kitty held onto him and cried for what felt like hours, unable to speak or do anything other than drain herself o the miseries that had corrupted her life for the past half year. Pietro didn't ask anything of her and eventually they both drifted to sleep, coccooned in the warm blankets and soft bed.

Kitty awoke once, her eyes hazy and her mind only functioning on the barest of levels, but when she saw Pietro curled up next to her and felt his hand at her stomach, she let herself drift back off to sleep, knowing she was safe.

When she awoke again, early morning daylight streamed through the windows, broken up only by the piles of snow that layered the windowsill. The room was bathed in warm light, but when Kitty slipped away from the bed to go use the bathroom, the floor was freezing and her blankets were sorely missed.

She returned to the room just a few minutes later, her footsteps slipping silently across the floor, but Pietro was awake and waiting for her on the edge of the bed. He stood up when she entered and she slipped into his embrace, pressing her temple to his chest. They stood that way, listening to the sounds of nature that floated in from outside and the echoing creaks of the elegant old home.

"What's that?"

Kitty glanced up at Pietro's inquiry. "Oh," she said softly. "That's a box the doctor told me to give you." He pulled away from her tenderly, walking as she spoke. "He said you'd know what it was."

Pietro crossed the room and picked up the box from the table. After a moment's hesitation, he lifted the top. It was a vial of clear liquid. Kitty's eyebrows raised uncertainly. "What is that?" she asked. Pietro stared at the vial, his thumb brushing the label.

"Epinephrine," he told her. "Liquid adrenaline, more or less."

Kitty frowned. "Why would he.." she trailed off, her brown eyes becoming thoughtful. Pietro took the vial out of the box and held it in his fingers, his silver eyes flickering over its contents. "Leon thinks this is what I need to get us back to our time."

Everything in Kitty's mind came to a screeching halt. She stared at him from across the room, her fingers curled and twitching at her sides. "D - Do you think.. do you think it'll work?" Pietro met her gaze. "If I understand my body correctly, then.. yes, probably."

Kitty's breathing shallowed and she struggled to keep her thoughts straight. Her teary eyes moved back and forth frantically before settling on Pietro again. "Will we.. will we remember everything?" She wasn't sure what she wanted the answer to be.

"I don't know," Pietro admitted in a whisper.

Kitty's lips trembled, but she pushed back the wild noises that threatened to break free of her chest. She touched her neck and looked away. A few minutes passed before Pietro spoke again.

"It's up to you, Kitty. Tell me what you want and I'll do it."

She looked back at him, her expression open and wide. A thousand images flashed in her head. Her parents. The mansion. Storm. School.

EvanAngelBobbyTheForestPietro'ssmileThevillageAlaughThecampfireSoldiersAgunshotAface

Kitty gasped softly and covered her mouth, her eyes closing for just a moment as everything overwhelmed her. When she re-opened them, she saw Pietro Maximoff standing in front of her, scarred and muddled with sleep, holding a vial that could mean everything or nothing.

She squared her shoulders and breathed in deeply. For the first time since she'd awoken with Leon, she felt her chest expand with satisfying fullness. When she exhaled, she smiled a tiny, watery smile.

"I want to go.." she told him in gulping tones, " .. _all _the way back. To the very beginning."

Silver eyes moved over hers in a deep, instrospective fashion. Pietro Maximoff listened to her words and then nodded. "Alright," he said to her, slipping the vial in the pocket of his sleep pants and crossing the room in broad, certain steps.

When he reached her, he tucked a hand behind her neck and pulled her close in a sudden, intimate embrace. His lips ghosted over hers.

"Hello," he murmured, as Kitty's face slowly spread into a smile. "My name is Pietro Maximoff."

* * *

The hallway was _so _crowded, but the brunette girl made short work of it and darted around the other students with a giggle and a wave.

"Hey Kitty!" someone exclaimed to her left, reaching up and slapping her a high-five. She laughed, ducking beneath Scott Summer's arm as he pulled a book from his locker. "Whoa, watch it!" he exclaimed, but Jean laughed next to him and pulled him away.

"Sorry!" the tiny girl called, giggling once more and jumping up the staircase of Xavier's Institute. She nearly fell, but someone steadied her arm. When she looked up, Bobby Drake smiled down at her. "Watch it, Hellcat," he teased. When he let go of her, he looped an arm with Rogue and continued down the stairs. Others called to Kitty, waving and shouting, but she rushed past them all and didn't stop until she turned into the room she'd been looking for.

A white-haired woman greeted her at the door, arms folded and lips quirked at a barely suppressed smile. "Hurry, Kitty. Your presentation is up first."

"Got it, Professor Ororo!" The girl darted in and headed for the front of the room, dumping a pile of books and a cardboard box on the teacher's desk. Behind her, the other students already seated were talking and goofing off. A crackling pop sounded across the room and someone shouted.

"Agh, Angel! You set my notebook on fire!"

The Latina girl snickered from her desk and then shrieked, jumping away from Evan's swatting hand. "It was an accident!" she protested, jumping over her desk and only falling back into her seat when their teacher gave her a reproachful stare.

Finally, the bell sounded, and the brunette girl turned to face her classmates. Behind her, a stack of books sat in a neat pile next to an aged black and white photograph in a wooden frame. The other students fell into obedient silence and she took a deep breath.

"Hello, everyone! My name is Kitty and my presentation is on two of the coolest people you've never heard of." She held up both hands. "They were pioneers in their respective fields, warriors on the battle field, and most importantly of all, they were _my _great-grandparents." She beamed.

"_This _is the story of Pietro and Kitty Maximoff."

* * *

_Kitty went on to tell the story of her heroic predecessors and how their herculean efforts during the 1950's and 60's became the basis for all mutant rights today. Working in the fields of biological physics and genetics, their joint research evolved into the foundation of a newly revolutionized civil rights movement that swept over Europe in a tidal wave of social and political change._

_When they took their findings to the United States government in the 1970's, the pair became the epicenter of the international academic community. By 1980, Pietro and Kitty Maximoff's research provided overwhelming evidence that the disparity between mutants and non-mutants were not grounds for alienation or subjugation. The Mutant Protection Act of 1982 was borne of their efforts. __In the midst of their progress, they also found time to raise four children. _

_Kitty's grandfather, Django, was the eldest._

* * *

"It wasn't always easy," said Kitty to her classmates, who listened with vague interest. "There were still fights and protestors, still people who wanted to hate and fear us. But thanks to my great-grandparents, the government was forced to recognize that genetic abnormalities have always been a part of human nature. Our bodies are always changing and evolving, and that's something to celebrate, not be afraid of."

The brunette girl reached over and took the framed photograph from the desk. It showed a young couple in shades of grey and black, smiling on the rocky shore of a beach. Kitty turned the photo towards her classmates.

"I never got to meet them. They died, just a few months apart, right before I was born. I think that's what inspired my father to name me Kitty."

"I can't help but imagine how they would feel," she told her classmates earnestly, her tone growing soft. "What they would think if they could see Xavier's Institute today.. or all the schools like it all over the country."

She smiled at the photograph and set it aside.

"I bet they would be happy," she said tenderly. She turned to smile at Ororo Munroe. "I bet they would be proud."

Kitty Maximoff faced her classmates and her smile grew.

"I bet they would be X-Men."

* * *

Author's Note: fin.

**Stay tuned** for an epilogue featuring Father!Pietro, among other goodies.


	18. End All

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews, guys! They were awesome to read and I appreciated every single one. This is the epilogue for _Epoch. _It includes snippets from Pietro and Kitty's life after the events of the story. It spans several years and is NOT in chronological order. The very last piece will be indicated with a line of asterisks (*****) and I highly, **highly **suggest you listen to Abraham's Daughter by Arcade Fire (or as I know it, Track 1 on the Hunger Games soundtrack.) It is the perfect ending theme for this story. **Edit: Apparently, ate my asterisks. I will include a note instead. **Thanks for reading!

* * *

_She was crying._

_Kitty didn't blame the little girl for her tears, but she hated them. Hated them because she knew this was another trap, Oh God, it was another test, but she didn't know what they wanted her to do! _

_Kitty scrambled through one barrier and the next. Her body ached so much. Wounds sizzled at her side and her right arm didn't seem to be working properly. The little girl writhed against the ground - Oh, GOD, she was no more than four years old - but they were using her as bait and Kitty phased over and over again trying to reach the little girl. _

_They were boiling her alive! The poor little girl. _

_I'm trying! Kitty shouted at the little girl, fighting harder and harder to get to her. I'm trying to save you! I'm trying, please! Just stop the test, I'll do whatever you want! _

_The smell of burning flesh made her faint. _

Kitty awoke with a shrill scream. A few heavy moments passed as her chest heaved, her fingers clenching at the covers of her bed. Her eyes darted all around her for a moment before the darkness of the room filled in her vision and she realized where she was.

The familiar bedroom settled around her. Tall walls. Vaulted ceilings. A balcony window framed by emerald curtains.

"Mommy?"

A tiny figure appeared in the doorway, shadowed by the hallway light. A few tentative steps shuffled the preschooler inside.

"Are you okay?"

Kitty breathed a sigh of relief and wiped away the last of her tears. She extended a hand with a smile. "Yes, _babisiu_. I just had a bad dream."

The little boy scampered across the cold wooden floor and climbed into the bed, immediately tucking into Kitty's arms.

"Do you want me to get Papa? He's in his study."

"No, sweetie, I'm fine." Kitty brushed the little boy's unruly hair back with a shaky palm. "Okay," the little boy said easily. He peered up at her. "Do you want _me _to stay? I can protect you from bad dreams."

Kitty's smile grew. "Yes, Django. I would love that." She leaned her cheek against the little boy's head and breathed in deeply. The rest of her night was untroubled.

* * *

Pietro made a face.

"Do we really have to go back to that lady's house? She smelled like dumpster cats." He hopped off the curb of a paved road, hands in the pockets of his slacks.

Leon thumped him in the temple.

"That's no way to talk about a patient, Pietro. Even if it's true." He chuckled. "And yes, we do have to pay her house call because that is what I do as a doctor and it is what you will do someday as well, if you ever stop fooling around."

Pietro rolled his eyes, his attention already on the various people navigating the town marketplace. It was a brilliantly sunny afternoon. He could think of a million better things to do than visit some old hypochondriac.

Leon turned swiftly on a street corner. Pietro followed him thoughtlessly, his fingers twitching in his pockets. When he realized they weren't heading in the right direction, it was already too late.

He raised an eyebrow at Leon.

"This is not the Dumpster Cat Lady's house," he said flatly. Leon nodded. "Yes, I'm aware." He pointed to a shop window. "This is Wozniak's Jewelery shop. Ring a bell?"

"Nope," said Pietro, whistling unconvincingly. Leon folded his arms. "Pietro, how impressed do you think Kitty will be if she finds out her engagement ring was _stolen_?" The younger of the two men scowled. "How do you even know about that?"

"It doesn't matter! You are going in there right now, giving that man a check, and then telling him you're sorry."

"What the fuck! I'm not doing that!"

"Why not? I'm handing you a check to give to the man," said Leon, waving a piece of paper at Pietro, who brushed it away. "I can't take that. We already live in your house and eat from your table." His silver eyes flickered, suddenly serious. "I'm not taking your money for something _I_ want to get for Kitty."

"And yet you'll steal it from a hard-working business owner, eh?"

"_Yeah_," said Pietro, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I have my own unique code of ethics." Pietro shifted, suddenly looking uncomfortable. Leon put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You want to give that ring to Kitty? Then do it. But just so you know, she's not just making a promise to be your wife. You're also making a promise to be her husband. To be her husband, you have to be a man."

He put the check in Pietro's reluctant hand.

"And being a man means owning up to the things you do."

Pietro sighed in a most aggrieved fashion and glared at the shop window. "Does this mean we don't have to go to the cat lady's house?"

"We are most certainly _still_ going to the cat lady's house."

"God damn it!" Pietro snapped, shoving his way into the jewelery store.

* * *

"Michael, eat your beans."

"I don't _li - i - i -ke _beans," he said from the end of the table, tortured as only a seven-year old could be. "They're gross!"

"I didn't ask if you liked them," said his mother calmly, spooning mushy food into a baby girl's mouth. "Now eat."

The little boy at the end of the table scowled. "I don't want to!" His two brothers watched on, eyes darting back and forth like tennis spectators.

Kitty Maximoff put down the spoon and turned to face him, her brown eyes sharp. "Michael Robert, I will not tell you again - "

"NO!" he screamed, tossing his silverware to the floor in the throes of a furious tantrum.

A hand slammed down onto the table in front of him, making everyone jump and fall silent.

"I'm sorry, _what _was that?"

Michael's wide eyes slowly lifted to his father, who stood poised over him. Slowly, with painstaking care, the little boy reached out and gathered a fistful of beans, which he dutifully poured into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, never taking his eyes off his papa. Down the table, his two brothers snickered as loudly as they dared.

"That's what I thought," said Pietro as he straightened. He walked around Michael's chair and thumped him in the temple.

"Ow!"

* * *

Kitty hummed quietly. A soft smile curled the corners of her lips, twitching with every movement of her hips as she sauntered around the spacious sitting room to the tune of a record player's song.

The music. That might've been her favorite thing about this era.

She turned and swirled, half-heartedly reading some notes for her thesis as she did so. The dim light of the room illuminated the few pieces of furniture around her, most of which sat off against the walls, leaving only an elaborate area rug in the center.

Kitty made a full turn and ran straight into Pietro.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, dropping all of her papers and then laughing when she tried to catch them all before they landed. Pietro snickered, quickly and skillfully catching the papers and then holding them out of her reach.

"Pietro!" Kitty grinned, standing on her tiptoes and reaching over his shoulder, hopping all the while. He smirked at her and stood on his own tip toes so he could place them on a shelf out of her reach. "You can do without those for a minute," he informed her, dropping his arms and wrapping them around her waist. Kitty reached up and traced his jaw with her fingertips, her smile softening and a contented noise escaping her as she tucked into his neck.

Pietro turned the two of them in time with the music, his hands falling at the small of her back. For several minutes, they danced in silence, eyes closed and minds cut off from the world outside. Pietro's lips brushed Kitty's cheek before he spoke.

"I got in."

Kitty paused, slowing their dance and looking up at him. Comprehension dawned on her.

"You - got in to medical school?" she asked, her eyes wide. Pietro's lips quirked. He nodded.

"Oh, that's so - Oh my god! That's so - Great!" Kitty jumped into his arms, laughing and peppering his face with kisses. "I'm so proud of you!" Tears welled in her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away. Pietro chuckled and shook his head. "You are way too excited. It's not like I've graduated or anything."

Kitty pressed her lips against his, her fingers curling in the collar of his shirt. When she pulled back, she reached up both hands and raked them through his silver white hair.

"You have accomplished so much already," she murmured to him, her expression earnest. "I _know _you can do it."

Pietro tightened his arms around her and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He looked up at her face, nothing short of entranced.

"Yeah," he agreed in a whisper. "I guess I can."

* * *

Three quick knocks before Kitty peeked her head in.

"Hey, someone wants to see you."

Pietro glanced up from his desk and sighed, rubbing his eyes and then clearing away the paperwork. "Who is it?"

Kitty slipped inside the office. A young man in a suit followed closely behind her, looking more than a little nervous. Pietro leaned back in his chair, his silver eyes flickering over the man with a critical eye.

"Anatol," he said in a toneless greeting. "I thought you weren't returning from university until tomorrow."

The young man managed a faint smile and nodded. "I came home a day early, sir. I - I wanted to come by and speak with you. Both of you." He glanced at Kitty, who raised both eyebrows, surprised. She smiled secretly at Pietro and then nodded at the young man, indicating for him to sit in one of the leather chairs in front of Pietro's desk.

He did so, though not without a bit of trepidation.

Kitty leaned against the front of the desk and waited patiently, her back to her husband. She could hear him shifting in his office chair, ever impatient.

Anatol cleared his throat.

"Well, as you know, I will be graduating from the university in a few months. I wanted to let you both know that I've already received a job offer in Warsaw working for an accounting firm."

Kitty smiled. "Congratulations, Anatol! That's wonderful." Pietro simply raised an eyebrow, his hands now clasped on the top of his desk. Anatol gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you. I'm very excited about it." He looked at Pietro again, his expression strained as if he would have given anything to look away from the older man's gaze. Kitty had to admire the poor kid. He was trying.

"What I - What I wanted to ask.." he began again, pausing. "Well, you know that Rose and I have been dating for almost three years now." He gestured. "And I - I love her, more than anything in the world. I do, Dr. Maximoff."

Anatol paused, as if waiting for Pietro to comment. When he received only silence, he flushed red and continued.

"What I wanted to say," the young man said finally. " .. is that.. with your permission.. I would love to take Rose to Warsaw with me when I graduate," he sucked in a deep breath. "As my wife."

Kitty covered her mouth to stifle a teary gasp, but Anatol wasn't looking at her. Instead, he was fighting to keep from turning away from Pietro's increasingly steely glare.

The young man swallowed tightly and pushed back his shoulders. Silence reigned for a long, agonizing moment. Pietro finally spoke, his voice low.

"Rose is only nineteen."

Anatol blinked and smiled just a little. "Well, yes, but she'll be twenty in a few months - "

"I know when my daughter's birthday is," growled Pietro. Anatol flushed red again and fell silent. Kitty felt wildly sorry for him.

"Oh, _Kochanie_," she said. "I was seventeen when we got married."

Her husband immediately made a high-pitched, affronted noise. "Wha - _Don't tell him that_!"

"Well, it's true!" Kitty exclaimed, laughing. Pietro scowled. "Our situation was completely different - " "So what? She's got to get married sometime, Pietro!" "That doesn't mean - "

"Dr. Maximoff! Dr. Kitty, please - " Anatol cut in, standing and holding up both of his hands. The bickering couple fell silent, Kitty's expression as amused as Pietro's was indignant. They both turned to look at the young man, who breathed in deeply and lowered his hands. He turned to face Pietro, his eyes serious.

"Dr. Maximoff, I - I know that what I'm asking is a serious thing. I know that." He closed his eyes for a moment, as if to gather himself, before he reopened them to speak. "But I swear to you, my _entire _worth as a man," said Anatol ".. is completely dependent on Rose's happiness." Pietro fell silent, though he did sent a sidelong glare to Kitty when she let out a little _aww _to his side.

Anatol curled his fingers at his sides, his back and shoulders tense. Kitty glanced between the two men at an almost frantic pace, secretly worried about Pietro's reaction just as much as Anatol. Finally, the older man rose from his chair and moved around his desk. Anatol immediately stood, his jaw clenched with the effort it took to keep silent.

After a moment's last inspection, Pietro extended a hand.

"Fine," he said simply. Anatol and Kitty exhaled in unison, the former shaking Pietro's hand with a relieved smile. "Thank you, Dr. Maximoff. You too, Dr. Kitty." He turned to face her. She gave him a thumb's up.

Pietro dropped his hand from Anatol's as the other man excitedly picked up his coat and turned to leave.

"Anatol," said Pietro, making the other man pause at the door. Anatol turned, his expression wary. "Yes, sir?"

Pietro walked back over to his wife and slipped an arm around her waist, his sharp eyes never leaving the young man's face.

"You'd better mean what you said about keeping Rose happy," he warned with a narrow gaze. "You may think you're safe in Warsaw, but word travels fast." He tapped his temple.

"And I travel faster."

Kitty barely stifled a giggle at Anatol's look of alarm. The young man responded with a nod that was more like a bow and disappeared from the room with all due haste.

* * *

"So fire him."

"First of all, he's a volunteer, and second of all, I'm not firing him just because you say I should!"

Kitty folded her arms and settled her husband with a deep scowl. Pietro responded in kind. "Why _not_?" he whined. Kitty waved an arm. "Because he's done nothing wrong!"

"_Yet_. I'm telling you, I don't like the way he looks at you," Pietro huffed, falling heavily into a window seat. Kitty rolled her eyes. "Oh, he's a twenty year old boy! He looks at all women that way!"

Pietro pointed a finger at her. "Yeah, and I know what he's thinking when he does. Just get another lab assistant! Preferably one with internal genitalia."

"Are you really this petty, Pietro? Really?"

He raised a brow at her from his lounged position. "After knowing me all these years, are you really asking that? Of _course, _I'm that petty." Kitty sighed and tapped her foot. "You've got a point," she said dryly.

Pietro hopped up. "Good, then we've come to an agreement." He smirked. "Now get rid of that horny little assistant or he'll end up in a ditch."

Then he strolled out of the room, leaving behind the angry shrieks of his wife.

* * *

Pietro paced.

It was never a good thing when Pietro paced, because he usually ended up having to pay for new floors. Still, this was a hospital. His hospital, in fact. It didn't really matter what he did to the floors.

"Dr. Maximoff?"

A nurse blinked at him from a doorway. Two curious faces appeared behind their papa's legs, eyes wide. "You can come in to see her now."

He smiled, his chest growing lighter. Then he reached down and scooped up his two boys, who chattered excitedly to each other from their respective arm holds. When Pietro lowered them next to their mother's bed, Michael was the first one to shriek and yank her into a hug. Django, the eldest, hung back and waited patiently for Kitty to lean over and press a kiss to his cheek.

Then she turned to Pietro and gave him one as well, her cheeks flushed and her hair wild.

The nurse returned, this time with a covered bundle.

"Ooh, is that the baby?" Michael shouted excitedly, scrambling into a better viewing position. Kitty laughed, taking the bundle from the nurse and pushing back the blanket just a little. Django gasped.

"Papa, he looks just like you!"

Pietro grinned, pulling Django into his lap and peering down. Their two older sons had Kitty's overall look, but this little boy was a bundle of silver hair and flashy grey eyes. "He does, doesn't he? Wow," Pietro said, his fingers thoughtlessly combing through Kitty's hair. Michael stuck out his tongue, deep in thought. "What should we name him?"

Kitty reached up and curled a hand into Pietro's.

"Well, he looks just like you," she murmured up at him. Her eyes turned back to the newborn. "Let's call him Peter."

Pietro chuckled. "That sounds good," he agreed. "Peter Maximoff." He brushed a tender finger over the infant's cheek. "I like it."

* * *

Kitty flipped through a pile of papers and made a frustrated noise.

"_Kochanie_, where are the files on the Harreman case?"

They both moved through the office with practiced synchronization, never looking up from files, folders, and case documents. "Which Harreman case?"

Kitty turned over another paper, her eyes glued to the text.

"The _relevant_ Harreman case," she said bitingly. "The one we need for tomorrow." Pietro shot her an irritated look and pushed some papers at her, which she took without looking. They lapsed into silence, each absorbed in their studies.

Various yells and thuds sounded from outside.

Kitty hummed thoughtfully at her files. "What's all that noise?" she asked distractedly, highlighting a paragraph of data. Pietro glanced up at the window for a half second.

"Django and Michael are fighting in the yard," he said casually. He picked up another folder and thumbed through the pages. "About what?" Kitty asked, squinting at her papers and scribbling a quick note.

Pietro fished a book out of the bookshelf. "Knowing them, probably a stick." He opened it to a bookmarked page and began reading. For about five minutes, silence surrounded them.

Without warning, an explosion sounded outside.

Kitty and Pietro both jerked their heads up, eyes wide. Within seconds, Kitty had jumped through a wall to the front porch and Pietro stood at her side. In front of them, a crater some six to ten feet wide sat between a very shocked Django and his two youngest siblings, who were playing on a blanket in the grass.

"I didn't do it!" Django shouted.

Kitty's eyes darted over the yard. One.. Two.. Three - "Michael!" she shrieked, gripping her hair. "Where's Michael?!"

No sooner had she spoken, however, than a strange noise directed their attention back to the crater. Twinkling lights began to appear and dart towards its center, starting at ground level and then slowly working its way up to form a pair of feet, knobby knees, a grungy t-shirt and finally, to Kitty's immense relief and confusion, Michael's wide-eyed face.

He reappeared right in front of them, cell by cell, with his mouth hanging open and his arms wide as if he'd been pushing at something. Then he glanced down at his recently reformed palms, his expression bewildered.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, grinning suddenly.

Pietro and Kitty stared, slack-jawed. As usual, Pietro was the first to recover.

"Well," he said to Kitty, patting her shoulder. "Have fun figuring out _that _power."

* * *

_finale. _

The phone rang three times before a tiny voice answered.

"Maximoff Presidents!"

Pietro laughed quietly into the payphone. "Rose, sweetie. It's residence. Not presidents."

"Oh! Hi Papa!" the little girl exclaimed cheerfully. Pietro could imagine her on the other end, twirling around the phone cord. "I miss you so so much! When you come home? Today?" Pietro sighed wistfully. "Not today, little _Różyczko_. Soon, though. Is your mother home?"

"Yes, sir!" the little girl piped up. Pietro had to add another coin to the payphone while he waited for Rose to finish humming, unaware of the implication of his asking where Kitty was. "Can you go get her please?"

"Oh, yes!" Rose dropped the phone (to the floor, it sounded like) and hurried off, her shoes clicking on the wooden floor of their home. What seemed like an eternity passed before another voice picked up.

"Hello?"

Pietro leaned gratefully against the phone booth seat, suddenly feeling exhausted. Kitty's voice made his desire for home all that more fervent. "Hello love," he said, smiling as he heard Kitty laugh. "Oh, my handsome doctor man. How was the conference?"

Pietro rolled his eyes. "Mind numbing. Seriously, I think I could use it on patients in pre-op." He fidgeted with the hem of his pants. Kitty snickered. "Oh, it couldn't have been that bad!" In the background of the phone call, Pietro heard all sorts of thumps and yells, even a crash.

"How're the kids?"

"Oh, you know," said Kitty, speaking over a clamor of shouting. "The usual. Peter ripped out his stitches." Pietro groaned. "Again? That kid does not like to stay still." He could just see Kitty's face as she responded, her tone wry. "Well, gee. I wonder where he got that from!" They both snickered. Another background noise made Pietro narrow his eyes.

"Was that a _dog?_"

"Whaaaat?" Kitty adopted an unconvincingly innocent tone. "No way." Something barked and Kitty made several unsuccessful attempts to shush it before a door slammed and the noise faded away. Kitty cleared her throat. "Anyway!" she said cheerfully, sounding very much like Rose. Pietro simply shook his head, his head falling against the cool glass of the phone booth.

"Have you checked into your hotel yet?" she asked. Pietro tapped his knee with his index finger. "No, not yet. I wanted to grab a bite to eat first. Just thought I'd call you first, since that might take a while."

He could feel her smile through the phone.

"I miss you," she said softly. Pietro smiled, his grip on the phone tightening just a bit. "I miss you, too." They sat without talking for just a moment before Pietro finally stood. "I've got to go. I love you."

He heard Kitty kiss the receiver. "I love you, too! We'll see you when you get home!"

Pietro slowly hung up the phone, his hand hovering on the handle for a long moment. When he finally let go, his smile faded away and his expression became a grim accessory to the rainy day outside. He stepped out onto the dark, wet asphalt and slipped on a fedora before crossing the street with quick, purposeful strides.

He walked for quite some time, moving across town and bypassing people who hurried along the sidewalks between stores and homes. Pietro paid them no mind. Finally, after nearly twenty minutes, he came to his destination.

Few people braved the city park on such a nasty day, but Pietro sloshed through the muddy playground grass and took his place at the side of a tall tree. For almost two hours, no visitors crossed his path. Around mid-afternoon, a group of schoolchildren took up residence in the playground. Pietro watched them idly, his expression uninterested.

God, he thought. Some children were so _ugly_. Maybe not all of his children were smart (_Michael_) but at least he could say, with no doubts or reservations, that they were all very good looking. Some of these kids looked like trolls.

A ball rolled in front of Pietro's shoe and he stopped it with a covered toe.

A little boy, perhaps the ugliest Pietro had ever seen, ran up to retrieve it. He balked, though, at the sight of Pietro and eyed him with an uncertain gaze. Pietro raised a brow in response and kicked the ball to him.

The boy hesitated before picking it up, turning it over in his hands as he continued to stare at Pietro with unveiled suspicion. A few moments passed this way before a woman hurried up and swatted at the boy's hands.

"What on earth are you doing with that dirty ball?" she scolded, making the little boy groan as she wiped at his hands with a napkin. "Mama! I was just playing!"

"Well, too bad. You're not getting new clothes dirty just for a silly ball," she said, dabbing at the boy's cheeks with the handkerchief, even as he squirmed and fought to get away. Pietro watched in silence from his place a few feet away.

The little boy continued to resist, but his mother had him by the hand.

"Come along, Bolivar. It's time to go."

Silver eyes followed the pair as they crossed the playground to the street. Pietro folded his arms over his trench coat, his head tipped low. The woman placed her wayward son in the backseat of an old Lincoln and then marched around to the driver's side, digging in her purse for her keys.

The little boy stared at Pietro still from his window. When the boy's mother entered the car and reached for her keys, Pietro locked eyes with him and gave a little wave.

The explosion rocked the street in a fiery plume of heat and metal.

Somewhere down the road, someone screamed. People began to rush at the fire, shouting and waving for help, but Pietro only watched. When he finally looked away, it was to read a piece of folded paper in his palm. A fountain pen appeared in his hand and he crossed out a line.

The paper was folded and placed back in his pocket. Without another glance, Pietro turned from the burning car and walked away, hands in his pockets and his lips pursed in a whistling tune.

* * *

Author's Note: So I would be lying if I said I wasn't ten chapters deep into a sequel in my head. Anyone game?


	19. Note!

Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know I have posted the first chapter to the _Permanence, _the sequel to Epoch! Check it out if you're interested. It's going to be a super crazy ride!

Thanks again!


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